-She  '' 

ROMANCE 

GILBERT 
HOLMES 


MARSHALL  MONROE' 
^  KIRKMAN  ^ 


» 


THE  ROMANCE 
OF  GILBERT  HOLMES 


BI.ACK  HAWK  RESCUING  GILBERT'S  FATHKR  AND  MOTHKK. 
PAGE  33 


THE  ROMANCE 


OF 


GILBERT    HOLMES 


AN  HISTORICAL  NOVEL 


BY 

MARSHALL  MONROE  KIRKMAN 

AUTHOR    OF    "THE    SCIENCE    OF    RAILWAYS,"    IN    TWELVE    VOLUMES,    "  PRIMITIV 
CARRIERS,"     ETC.,     ETC. 


NEW   YORK, 

M  365907 

JHE  WORLD  RAILWAY  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 

CHICAGO       NEW  YORK       LONDON 
1900 


COPYRIGHT  1900 
UNITED  STATKS,  GREAT  BRITAIN,  FRANCE 


AH  rights  reserved 


rENTEEXTH   EDITION 


DEDICATION 

THE   WRITING   OF   THIS   BOOK   HAVING  BEEN   TO    ME    WHOLLY 

A  LABOR  OF  LOVE, 

I    DEDICATE    IT    IN   A   LIKE    SPIRIT   TO   MY 
WIFE   AND   CHILDREN 

M.  M.  KIRKMAN 

LAKCHMERE,  JULY  1O,  1QOO 


2043285 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  A  SWEET  LADY        ....             9 

II.  GILBERT  HOLMES'S  ACCOUNT  OF  HIMSELF        .     18 

III.  THE  WRECK  ...                        24 

IV.  BLACK  HAWK,  THE  SAC  KING  .  .             -3° 
V.  THE  SWATH  OF  THE  HURRICANE     .                        37 

VI.  LOVE'S  IDEALS  ...                               42 

VII.  GILBERT'S  FLIGHT    ....           45 

VIII.  GILBERT'S  ENCOUNTER  WITH  THE  TIMBER- WOLF    55 

IX.  DRIFTWOOD  FROM  THE  THAMES  BATTLEFIELD       62 

X.  AN  AWAKENING              .             .             .             •     72 

XI.  THE  NEW  COUNTRY              ...           75 

XII.  THE  UNKNOWN  PASSENGER       .             .                  78 

XIII.  THE  PLACE  OF  REFUGE        .  .           85 

XIV.  THE  HIGHWAYMAN        .  .             .             -93 
XV.  CONSTABLE  BLOTT                .                          .         101 

XVI.  BEFORE  THE  LITTLE  JUSTICE    .                          .    109 

XVII.  THE  SINGLETONS     .             .             .             .119 

XVIII.  THE  SHADOWS  OF  LIFE               .             .             -125 

XIX.  THE  DUEL    .....         135 

XX.  ABRAHAM   LINCOLN   AND  JEFFERSON  DAVIS — 

THE  FARCING  OF  THE  WAYS         .  .         144 

XXI.  WHAT  THE  CANTEENS  HELD     .             .             .   150 

XXII.  ROLLAND  LOVE         .             .                          .         156 

XXIII.  COUSIN  ANGELINE          ....   165 

XXIV.  THE  FISHERS  .             .             .             .173 
XXV.  THE  CONSPIRATORS       .             .             .             .179 

XXVI.  LOST  IN  THE  FOREST            .             .             .         18*3 

XXVII.  IN  THE  TIGER'S  MOUTH             .             .             .189 

XXVIII.  GILBERT  AND  THE  HIGHWAYMAN  JOIN  FORCES    199 

XXIX.  THE  TRAGEDY  OF  MURDERER'S  HOLLOW          .   208 

XXX.  THE  RIDE  FOR  LIFE              .             .             .         217 


viii  Contents 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XXXI.  CONSTANCE                                      .             .         229 

XXXII.  CONVALESCENCE          .             .             .             .240 

XXXIII.  THE  RED  ROSE  OF  CUVIER  RIVER          .         246 

XXXIV.  GLIMPSE  OF  A  SUMMER  SEA  .  .             .   260 
XXXV.  CONSPIRACY  IN  BLACK  HAWK'S  CABIN    .         268 

XXXVI.  PHANTOMS  OF  THE  WOODS    .             .             .277 

XXXVII.  THE  PRODIGAL     .             .             .             .285 

XXXVIII.  THE  DRAGON'S  MASTER        .             .             .   290 

XXXIX.  THE  DEPTHS         .            .            .         •    .         298 

XL.  JOB  THROCKMORTON'S  TRIAL:  THE  TRAGEDY  306 

XLI.  THE  REUNION       ....         324 

XLII.  AN  ADVENTURE          ....  330 

XLIII.  ON  BOARD  THE  WAR  EAGLE       .            .         340 

XLIV.  THE  STEAMBOAT  RACE          .             .             .   347 

XLV.  TELLING  THE  NEWS          .             .             •.  '  •     355 

XLVI.  THE  AMERICANS         ....   359 

XLVII.  MAKING  THE  MOST  OF  THINGS                .         362 

XLVIII.  THE  CARRIERS            .             .             .             .374 

XLIX.  THE  BETROTHAL               .            .   -         .         381 

L.  UNDER  THE  WIDESPREADING  HAWTHORNS  .  389 

LI.  THE  MAUVAISE  TERRE     .             .             .         399 

LII.  LIFE  AND  DEATH       ..           .             .             .  403 

LIU.  WHERE  ALL  THE  ROADS  MEET  .            .411 


\lr~7*'   YORK. 


CHAPTER  I 

A  SWEET   LADY 

The  crowding  and  haste  of  other  days  no  longer  stirred 
the  great  wharf  at  New  Orleans,  and  steamboats  did  not  now 
as  then  struggle  for  place  or  preferment,  but  lay  apart,  a  mel- 
ancholy picture  of  the  changing  fortunes  of  carriers  and  the 
fluctuations  of  our  country's  commerce.  On  the  wide  expanse, 
once  piled  high  with  goods,  only  scattered  packages  lay,  and 
these  hid  away  under  grimy  coverings,  like  corpses  awaiting 
burial.  About  the  boat  I  sought,  the  tumult  of  the  shipping 
ebbed  and  flowed,  and  to  one  side  the  great  city  lay  as  if 
deserted,  or  asleep  under  the  hot  afternoon  sun.  Close  by, 
and  near  the  river's  edge,  a  procession  of  convicts  came  on, 
winding  in  and  out  amid  sacks  of  coffee  and  bales  of  cotton, 
sad  and  noiseless,  as  specters  might  have  marched.  On  either 
side  armed  men,  alert  and  watchful,  kept  pace,  a  part  of  the 
melancholy  show.  Stripes  encompassed  the  bodies  of  the 
convicts,  as  serpents  might  loosely  coil  themselves;  but  about 
the  guards  the  stripes  ran  up  and  down — to  the  looker-on  there 
was  no  other  difference.  Back  of  this  procession  of  doomed 
men,  and  as  if  threatening  it,  a  herd  of  mules,  half  wild  and 
frantic  with  fear,  dashed  here  and  there  seeking  a  way  out. 
About  them,  and  in  guardianship,  a  burly  negro,  black  as 
night,  rode  hither  and  thither,  headlong,  wheeling  and  circling, 
like  a  Numidian  of  old,  stopping  the  rush  here  and  cutting  it 
off  there — not  hurriedly,  but  at  the  last  moment,  as  if  craving 
excitement  and  the  admiration  his  horsemanship  elicited. 
When  it  seemed  to  those  who  looked  as  if  he  had  lost  control 
over  the  half-crazed  brutes,  his  fierce  cry  and  the  crack  of  his 
great  whip  stayed  the  frightened  animals,  and,  wheeling,  the 

9 


io  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

headlong  race  began  afresh.  On  board  the  vessel,  room  and 
clean  beds  awaited  these  creatures;  but  for  the  marching  con- 
victs, fortunate  he  who  found  a  bale  or  box  upon  which  to 
lay  his  sorrowing  head.  Afterward,  amid  the  swamps  of 
Louisiana,  the  animals  will  live,  sleek  and  fat;  but  the  men 
of  sin,  less  fortunate,  will  find  graves  in  the  shadows  of  the 
moss-grown  oaks,  or,  returning,  a  place  in  some  noisy  alms- 
house,  there  to  eke  out  their  lives  with  shrunken  frames  and 
despairing  hearts!  This,  however,  in  passing,  and  not  in  any 
way  to  judge  the  acts  of  men,  but  that  I  may  pick  up  the 
beginning  of  my  story,  which  in  no  wise  concerns  itself  with 
such  serious  things,  but  is  a  tale  of  love  and  life  in  the  new 
country,  and  nothing  more. 

From  the  quarter-deck  passengers  watched  the  busy  scene, 
and  among  them  one  face  gentler  and  fairer  than  the  others. 
I,  glancing  up,  thought  it  the  most  beautiful  I  had  ever 
beheld,  but  looking,  saw  it  only  for  a  moment,  and  this  as  the 
convicts  marching  past  were  swallowed  in  the  body  of  the 
great  vessel.  An  angel  grieving  over  the  lost  and  despairing 
in  life  could  not,  I  thought,  have  looked  down  on  the  world 
with  more  compassionate  pity. 

Of  delay  in  loading  there  was  none,  or  if  some  lull 
occurred,  the  negroes,  losing  all  care,  threw  down  their  bur- 
dens, and  flinging  themselves  on  their  knees,  fell  to  playing 
"craps"  as  children  play  at  marbles;  this  vehemently  and 
with  noisy  contention,  snapping  their  fingers  as  the  dice  flew 
from  their  trembling  hands,  each  as  he  threw  crying  some  inar- 
ticulate word  of  menace  or  entreaty  to  the  goddess  of  good 
luck.  Finally,  when  it  was  an  hour  past  the  time  of  leaving, 
and  the  wharf  was  deserted  save  by  groups  of  waiting  negroes, 
the  bell  rang  its  note  of  warning,  and  I,  hastening  on  board, 
glanced  upward,  and  doing  so,  saw  again  the  face  of  the  beau- 
tiful lady,  but  now  less  sorrowing  than  at  first. 

Backing  into  the  stream  amidst  the  ringing  of  bells  and 
the  splash  of  the  great  wheel,  we  passed  the  white  city 
with  ever-increasing  speed  as  the  sun,  far  to  the  west, 


A  Sweet  Lady  n 

tipped  the  buildings  and  shipping  with  a  golden  hue.  Later, 
and  as  the  night  closed  in  cool  and  starlit,  those  who  watched 
could  yet  see  some  glimpse  of  the  city's  lights  far  down 
on  the  edge  of  the  horizon;  but  with  this  passing,  no 
place  save  the  trio  of  hill-clad  cities  on  the  western  shore  of 
the  Great  River  met  our  view  until  we  reached  the  landing- 
place  at  Memphis. 

At  the  time  of  which  I  write  spring  floods  filled  the  deep 
basin  of  the  Mississippi  to  overflowing,  so  that  the  mighty 
stream,  ever  dark  and  sinister  in  its  lower  stretches,  was  never 
more  cruel  or  repellent.  Its  built-up  banks,  tipped  with  foam 
and  fast  crumbling  from  the  overflow,  offered  at  many  points 
such  slight  resistance  to  the  conflicting  currents  as  they  swept 
back  and  forth  in  the  windings  of  the  river  that  a  breath  only 
seemed  needed  to  sweep  them  away.  As  if  to  add  some  stress 
of  tragedy  to  the  scene,  armed  men  patrolled  the  western 
shore,  warning  us  away  with  angry  cries  when  we  sought  to 
land,  lest  the  wash  of  the  boat  should  overcome  the  weakened 
dikes,  and  so  engulf  the  villages  and  wide  plantations  that 
lay  behind. 

At  many  points  the  waste  of  water  spread  unchecked  as 
far  as  the  eye  could  penetrate  the  tangled  forest,  and  at  other 
places,  eating  into  the  yielding  banks,  turbulent  bays  were 
formed,  in  which  vast  whirlpools  circled.  Into  these,  trees 
toppled  and  fell  as  the  banks  gave  way,  to  be  sucked  down 
into  the  murky  water,  so  that  we  could  get  no  glimpse  of  them 
afterward  as  we  watched  from  the  boat's  side.  In  all  this, 
how  strange  a  contrast!  For  in  the  far  north  golden  sands 
form  the  bed  and  rocky  shores  the  borders  of  the  mighty 
stream.  From  whatever  point  one  surveys  the  great  river, 
however,  whether  north  or  south  or  midway  in  its  course,  its 
aspect  invites  reflection  and  romantic  thoughts,  for  through- 
out its  fength  it  is  ever  babbling  and  full  of  mystery  and 
change,  having  a  story  to  tell,  had  it  the  time;  but  evasive, 
as  if  in  play,  it  hurries  on  with  ripple  of  expectancy,  beneath 
the  shadows  of  overhanging  trees  and  amid  projecting  roots 


12  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

and  grasses,  glowing  with  reflected  light,  to  its  final  ending 
in  the  great  gulf. 

How  like,  one  sees,  is  it  to  the  lives  of  men  and  their 
affairs.  Springing  up  in  obscurity  amid  limpid  springs  in 
tranquil  depths,  far  off,  feeble  and  uncertain  of  course,  it  gains 
strength,  like  childhood,  pushing  on  through  opening  vistas 
and  enlivening  prospects  to  its  full  estate.  Thence,  faster 
and  faster,  to  where  the  waters  grow  dark  and  yellow  and 
uncertain  of  temper,  but  still  onward  to  the  end,  where,  amid 
somber  shadows  and  pendent  reeds,  in  the  ooze  of  the  slimy 
earth,  its  waters  are  lost  in  the  wide  expanse,  as  men  are 
swallowed  up  in  eternity.  Of  its  tragedies  of  men  and  women 
that  have  come  and  gone  leaving  no  trace,  who  shall  tell! 
Of  that  race,  too,  which  on  its  silent  shores  in  ages  long  gone 
by  came  into  life,  was  nurtured,  lived,  grew  old,  and  was  lost, 
as  if  it  had  not  been,  we  know  nothing,  nor  ever  will.  Nor 
of  that  later  people,  whose  warriors  for  uncounted  centuries 
disturbed  the  solitude  with  their  fierce  cries  or  quenched  their 
death-rattle  in  the  depths  of  its  silent  waters.  Here,  amidst 
bordering  forests  and  far-reaching  plains,  they  passed  their 
savage  life  as  Nature  formed  them,  chanting  amid  circling 
bays  and  quiet  dells  their  plaintive  love-songs,  or  listening 
to  the  requiem  of  the  rustling  leaves  and  murmuring  waters 
when  death  at  last  confronted  them.  They,  too,  have  gone, 
following  as  in  a  procession  of  stricken  men,  leaving  no  trace 
as  we  come  on,  doomed  as  they  were.  For  as  others  have 
gone,  we  shall  go,  and  in  the  end  as  in  the  beginning,  the 
valleys  of  the  great  river  will  echo  no  sound  save  the  ripple 
of  its  waters  nd  the  moan  of  the  wind  in  the  trees  as  in 
primeval  days. 

Along  our  course  the  great  river  plowed  its  unobstructed 
way  through  rich  alluvial  lands,  bordered  with  forests  and 
far-reaching  plantations.  On  the  edges  of  these  last,  hamlets 
clustered,  and  about  them  children  played,  while  men  and 
women  watched  the  angry  waters  with  bated  breath.  At  spots 
far  apart,  landing-places  were  marked  by  lonesome  cabins, 


A  Sweet  Lady  13 

and  here,  in  the  water-soaked  bank,  our  boat  poked  its  nose, 
and  was  held  as  in  a  vise  by  the  soft  receptive  clay.  At 
other  places,  warned  away,  we  anchored  at  a  distance,  trans- 
ferring our  load  to  smaller  crafts,  or  passed  on  to  await  a  more 
favorable  hour.  Of  danger  there  was  none,  or  if  at  night 
the  timid  held  their,  breath  when  the  sharp  sound  of  the  bell 
caused  the  great  wheel  to  stop  as  if  stricken  with  death,  they 
breathed  more  freely  when  the  obstruction,  crashing  against 
the  bottom  of  the  boat,  passed  on  and  we  were  safe.  Or  if  at 
times  the  tumbling  waters  and  swift  converging  currents 
threatened  us,  the  watchful  pilots  steered  us  clear,  and  we 
saw  the  danger  from  afar,  and  so  paid  little  heed.  Thus  wait- 
ing, some  read  or  slept  or  played,  while  others  watched  the 
sea-gulls  as  they  flew  back  and  forth  across  the  foam  of  the 
flying  wheel,  searching  for  particles  of  food  as  sharks  are  said 
to  do  at  sea. 

Not  meeting  with  accident  of  any  kind,  the  more  compan- 
ionable among  the  passengers  soon  set  themselves  to  form  the 
acquaintance  of  those  about  them,  and  in  this  way,  and  hap- 
pily, I  was  brought  in  contact  with  Gilbert  Holmes.  More 
fortunate  still,  I  thought,  he  proved  to  be  the  companion  of 
the  beautiful  lady  I  had  seen  looking  down  in  pity  on  the 
marching  convicts  as  I  came  on  board.  Strangely  enough — 
but  not  strangely  either,  for  such  things  are  often  noticed 
— he  resembled  her  as  men  may  resemble  women.  Not  much 
alike,  but  as  they  will,  without  knowing  it,  take  on  some  part 
of  the  features  or  gentle  sweetness  of  these  dear  companions 
of  their  lives.  Mr.  Holmes  was  reaching  on  to  old  age,  but 
youthful  in  face  and  erect  of  form  and  buoyant  as  if  still  in 
the  vigor  of  manhood.  Running  through  his  slow  speech  and 
mirrored  in  the  mild  complaisance  of  his  eyes  there  were  ever 
present^  the  melodies  of  the  past,  the  remembrance  of  what 
had  been.  This  as  we  often  see  in  men  of  affairs  who  have 
mixed  much  in  the  world's  strife,  but  are  no  longer  concerned 
in  its  turmoil  or  ambitious  ends.  In  his  look  and  speech  there 
was,  however,  still  a  pleasant  note  of  interest,  as  if  life  had 


14  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

not  tired  him,  nor  his  concern  in  its  affairs  been  dulled  by 
usage  or  infirmity  of  temper;  but  while  he  listened  to  what 
was  said  or  took  note  of  what  went  on  about  him,  it  was  plain 
to  every  one  that  he  lived  only  in  the  presence  and  reflection 
of  his  loving  wife.  She,  on  her  part,  it  was  also  clear,  had 
little  thought  of  anything  but  her  husband,  her  eyes  following 
him  with  tender  concern,  as  if  in  him  all  her  life's  interests 
were  centered. 

The  great  affection  these  two  bore  each  other  was  soon 
discerned  by  every  one,  and  at  once  elicited  that  kind  and 
inquisitive  interest  which  men  and  women  are  said  ever  to  feel 
for  those  who  truly  love.  Of  her  age  I  could  form  no  idea,  for 
life  had  left  no  trace  of  care  on  her  beautiful  face,  and  her 
eyes  still  showed  in  their  placid  depths  the  luster  of  youth 
and  the  tranquil  calm  of  a  loving  and  trustful  heart.  Her 
mouth,  soft  in  outline  and  of  engaging  sweetness,  ever  led  me 
to  speculate  anew  as  to  which  is  the  more  attractive,  the  eyes 
or  the  mouth  of  women;  but  this,  I  know,  others  hav'e  puzzled 
over  before  me,  and  will  to  the  end  of  time.  Her  soft  speech 
and  gentle  manners  quickly  made  every  one  her  slave,  the 
officers  of  the  boat  not  less  than  others;  and  though  harassed 
by  the  cares  and  perplexities  of  the  journey,  they  lost  no  excuse 
or  opportunity  to  come  within  the  radiance  of  her  gentle  pres- 
ence. This  tribute  of  admiration  that  men  ever  pay,  and  with 
delight,  to  queenly  women,  one  and  all  yielded,  and  gladly, 
to  this  sweet-faced  lady. 

Thus  the  days  passed,  and  they  were  to  me  a  new  experi- 
ence of  life  and  its  possibilities.  A  vision  of  love,  burning 
on  undimmed  through  years  of  health  and  sweet  contentment 
to  the  very  end.  Happy  association !  Tranquil  picture  of  life! 
It  fades  not  from  me  now,  but  grows  with  each  recurring  day, 
so  that  I  conjure  it  up  anew  and  with  greater  interest  than 
before  when,  in  the  turmoil  of  affairs,  my  mind  finds  need  of 
rest  or  some  sweet  solace  of  comfort. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Holmes  received  me  kindly  from  the  very 
first,  and  this,  it  appeared,  because  of  a  resemblance  they  saw 


A  Sweet  Lady  15 

in  me  to  a  son  lost  to  them  long  before  at  Lookout  Mountain 
in  the  great  Civil  War.  This  resemblance  and  a  certain 
reverent  homage  I  paid  them,  which  I  did  not  seek  to  hide, 
caused  them  to  take  me  trustfully  and  wholly  within  the  influ- 
ence of  their  lives;  and  this  to  my  great  happiness  and  good 
fortune  then  and  now. 

Mr.  Holmes,  or  Gilbert,  as  she  called  him  when  not  using 
some  term  of  endearment,  which  she  generally  did,  had 
passed  his  life  in  the  West,  as  the  country  about  the  Missis- 
sippi Valley  was  called  in  his  youth.  He  was  fond  of  telling 
of  the  settlement  of  this  new  country  and  the  people  who  had 
been  connected  with  its  early  history,  and  in  this  was  led  on 
by  his  sweet  wife.  Into  these  accounts  were  interwoven 
glimpses  of  his  own  life,  so  that  I  was  led  to  ask  him  more 
about  himself,  and  particularly  his  early  adventures,  which 
his  wife  was  most  fond  of  having  him  recall.  This  I  did 
at  first,  I  will  confess,  not  so  much  out  of  any  great  interest 
as  that  I  might  find  excuse  for  being  the  more  in  his  presence 
and  that  of  his  dear  lady.  After  a  day  thus  passed,  I  wrote 
out  at  night  what  he  had  recounted.  Not  at  the  beginning 
with  any  purpose,  but  because  I  ever  had  a  peculiar  knack  in 
this  direction,  being  designed,  I  think,  from  the  first  to  be 
a  clerk  or  something  of  that  kind,  and  nothing  more.  How- 
ever, lest  I  should  transgress  some  law  of  good  manners, 
I  after  a  while  informed  Mr.  Holmes  of  what  I  was  doing. 
This,  I  saw,  did  not  meet  his  entire  approval,  though  he  gave 
no  expression  to  his  thoughts  save  a  look  of  surprise;  but  Mrs. 
Holmes,  upon  hearing  it,  was  greatly  pleased,  and  thereafter 
lost  no  opportunity  to  aid  me  in  my  efforts  to  draw  from  him 
the  particulars  of  his  early  life.  In  this,  however,  we  were 
never  wholly  successful,  because  of  his  reluctance  to  speak 
of  himself;  but  as  she  seemed  to  know  every  incident  of  his 
career  and  to  treasure  it  as  a  sweet  memory,  when  he  halted 
or  sought  to  break  the  story,  she  would  put  her  hand  on  his, 
and  taking  up  the  narrative  go  on,  perhaps,  until  we  parted 
for  the  night.  These  interruptions  were  greatly  to  his  liking, 


1 6  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

it  was  clear,  for  he  loved  above  all  things  to  listen  to  her 
voice;  and  I  continually  detected  him  at  such  times  looking 
at  her  with  eyes  half  of  remonstrance  at  what  she  told,  but 
altogether  full  of  affection  for  her  and  her  engaging  ways.  By 
this  the  reader  will  see — and  I  am  glad  to  make  it  plain  to 
him — that  while  the  life  of  Gilbert  Holmes  seems  to  be  related 
by  himself,  it  was  in  many  parts — and  the  most  interesting 
parts,  I  think — told  by  his  wife  as  she  sat  by  his  side  with  her 
hand  clasping  his.  Cherished  memory!  Sweet  tale  of  love 
and  adventure  sweetly  told!  Surely  I  shall  never  know  any- 
thing so  beautiful  again. 

Our  journey  too  quickly  over,  cut  short  the  account  of 
Mr.  Holmes's  life,  and  this  to  my  sorrow,  and  so  I  said. 

"You  have  heard  but  a  part,  and  that  not  the  most  enter- 
taining, you  would  think,  could  you  hear  all,"  Mrs.  Holmes 
answered;  "for  among  other  things  he  has  been  a  soldier  in 
two  of  his  country's  wars,  and  in  the  last  a  general  "  she 
added,  with  a  fond  look  at  her  husband. 

"I  am  sure  his  life  must  have  been  full  to  the  brim," 
I  answered. 

"Yes,  and  well  you  may  be;  but  it  is  his  early  life  that 
interests  me  most,  and  the  part  he  loves  best  to  recall.  Nor 
of  this  have  you  heard  the  half — the  dear,  soft-hearted,  modest 
man!"  she  answered,  taking  his  face  in  both  her  hands  and 
kissing  him  as  women  will  those  they  greatly  love. 

Afterward,  when  I  had  written  out  the  story  and  came  to 
ask  Mr.  Holmes's  permission  to  put  it  in  print,  I  should  by  no 
means  have  succeeded  except  for  the  intercession  of  his  sweet 
wife,  who  rightly  believed  the  world  could  never  know  too 
much  of  so  good  and  honest  a  gentleman. 

"Surely,  Gilbert,  there  is  nothing  in  it  you  would  not  have 
told,  and  it  will  please  me  more  than  I  can  tell  if  you  will  let 
him  have  his  way  in  this,"  the  dear  lady  remonstrated;  and 
he,  saying  nothing,  assented,  as  he  did  to  everything  she 
proposed. 

I  have  had  much  inclination  to  prolong  the  story,  but  this 


A  Sweet  Lady  17 

I  have  restrained,  lest  it  prove  tiresome;  though  how  that 
could  be  I  cannot  see.  In  the  telling  I  shall  follow  on  with 
the  reader,  but  more  slowly,  it  being  to  me  worthy  of  greater 
regard  than  he  can  give  it;  and  this  because  in  every  word 
I  shall  detect  a  presence  or  hear  again  voices  that  will  be 
dear  to  me  forever.  This  pleasure  the  reader  cannot  share, 
nor  see  as  I  shall  the  loving  couple,  first  one  and  then  the 
other,  take  up  the  story  on  this  page  and  on  that  as,  in  the 
telling,  some  halt  or  embarrassment  of  speech  clogs  the 
other's  utterance. 


CHAPTER  II 

GILBERT   HOLMES'S  ACCOUNT  OF   HIMSELF 

I  was  born  on  the  borders  of  a  rolling  prairie  in  the  great 
state  of  Illinois,  near  the  spot  where  the  Big  and  Little  Sandy 
mingle  their  shallow  waters  to  form  the  wandering  Mauvaise 
Terre.  This  last,  hesitating  long  as  to  the  course  it  would 
pursue,  or  indeed  whether  it  would  move  at  all  or  not,  finally 
making  up  its  mind,  takes  its  way  to  the  west,  there  at  last  to 
be  swallowed  up  in  the  turbid  waters  of  the  Illinois.  This  in 
1826,  when  the  state  was  just  born  and  men  lived  far  apart, 
and  wolves  uttered  their  doleful  cries  beyond  the  sheepfold 
and  in  the  edges  of  the  great  forests  at  night  and  in  the  gray 
of  the  early  morning.  Of  the  county  in  which  I  was  born, 
I  am  not  sure,  because  of  the  uncertainty  as  to  the  boundary- 
lines  in  the  early  days,  but  this  is  not  a  matter  of  any  account, 
as  it  in  no  wise  concerns  the  subject  of  my  story. 

My  mother,  for  family  reasons,  wished  I  should  be  called 
Job,  but  dissuaded,  though  why  I  do  not  know,  she  named 
me  Gilbert,  after  a  gentleman  of  amiable  disposition  she  had 
once  known.  This,  she  said,  because  she  traced  in  me 
a  resemblance  to  him  in  this  important  particular. 

"Did  you  ever  see  milder  eyes  or  softer  ways?"  she  would 
say  aside  to  visitors,  with  an  air  of  motherly  pride,  when  I  was 
scarce  able  to  walk. 

When  she  was  gone,  those  who  treasured  her  memory  said 
I  resembled  her;  but  it  was  only  a  faint  reflection  of  her  pres- 
ence, such  as  we  often  see  in  children,  for  of  all  women  she 
was  the  most  beautiful  in  the  world  save  one. 

As  a  child  I  was  shy,  and  because  of  it,  disposed  to  be 
much  alone;  and  to  this  day  I  love  above  everything  else  to 
18 


Gilbert  Holmes's  Account  of  Himself  19 

mount  my  horse,  and  leaving  the  streets  and  public  highways, 
seek  out  the  nooks  and  restful  corners  of  the  cool  and  silent 
country.  This  love  of  being  alone — if  one  can  ever  be  said 
to  be  alone  in  the  country — has  not  in  any  way  lessened  my 
liking  for  my  fellow-men  nor  my  delight  in  their  company, 
but  has  served  rather  as  a  gentle  antidote  to  the  cares  and 
vexations  of  an  otherwise  busy  life.  As  a  youth  I  was  rosy- 
cheeked  and  inclined  to  be  dull;  but  this  is  said  ever  to  be  the 
case  with  children  having  a  fine  color.  Why  this  should  be  so, 
if  it  is  indeed  true,  I  leave  to  those  versed  in  such  things,  for 
I  can  see  no  reason  for  it  whatever.  I  loved  to  play,  but  not 
to  study,  and  because  of  these  opposites,  so  conflicting  and 
inopportune,  I  ever  found  it  hard  to  keep  up  with  my  class 
in  school.  Reading  I  liked,  but  not  arithmetic,  while  gram- 
mar made  my  head  ache,  and  in  spelling  I  tripped  on  the 
simplest  words.  It  often  fell  out,  therefore,  that  when  the 
other  children  piled  their  books  on  the  rude  benches  in  the 
cool  of  the  afternoon,  and  went  their  way  with  shouts  and 
laughter,  I  settled  down  to  try  again.  At  such  times  the 
teacher  would  sit  back  in  her  chair  on  the  little  platform  and 
scowl  down  on  me  in  gloomy  discontent,  tapping  the  desk  to 
relieve  her  angry  feelings. 

"You  little  beast!"  she  would  sometimes  say  when  thus 
cheated  of  her  afternoon  outing,  "you  are  not  half  so  stupid 
as  you  seem,  though  you  are  dull  enough,  goodness  knows. 
You  could  learn  if  you  wanted  to,  but  you  would  rather  watch 
the  girls  or  look  out  of  the  windows  than  study — the  more 
shame  to  you." 

This  was  true  enough  as  regards  the  girls,  I  know,  but 
I  hated  her  for  all  that;  only  I  hated  myself  still  more.  As 
I  grew  in  years  my  dullness  so  preyed  upon  me  that  in  all  my 
reflections  on  the  great  and  desirable  things  in  life,  Smart- 
ness always  stood  foremost  and  the  best  of  all.  My  affliction 
made  me  still  more  shy,  until  in  time  what  was  at  first  only 
a  trait,  became  a  habit,  and  one  that  I  have  never  been  able 
to  quite  throw  off,  though  the  vicissitudes  of  life  and  much 


io  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

intercourse  with  men  have  somewhat  lessened  its  embarrass- 
ments. While  on  this  subject  I  may  say,  going  to  the  other 
extreme,  that  neither  my  dear  wife  nor  my  children  will  ever 
admit  that  I  could  have  been  dull  in  my  youth,  and  at  this 
I  smile  and  even  make  believe;  but  they  know  little  of  human 
nature,  and  their  skepticism  only  proves  their  love.  For  their 
disbelief  grows  out  of  the  knowlege  that  in  middle  life  I  was- 
able  to  take  up  whatever  interested  me  and  carry  it  forward 
to  a  more  or  less  successful  conclusion.  This  facility,  how- 
ever, came  too  late  to  enliven  my  childhood,  and  did  not  arise 
so  much  from  any  talent  I  possessed  as  from  experience  and 
reflection — things  that  come  to  all  of  us  with  mature  years. 

My  amiability  in  youth,  coupled  with  my  lack  of  smartness, 
caused  me  to  be  much  set  upon  by  boys  more  precocious  than 
I,  and,  in  consequence,  the  quiet  of  my  life  was  often  rudely 
disturbed.  For  it  is  only  truth  to  say  that  while  my  eyes  may 
have  been  mild  and  my  manner  soft,  I  really  had  a  very  high 
temper  if  much  stress  was  put  upon  it.  Then,  going  to  the 
other  extreme,  no  situation  of  peril  could  prevent  its  blazing 
forth.  At  such  times  my  rage,  rising  higher  and  higher,  like 
a  prairie  fire,  grew  with  what  it  fed  upon,  only  to  die  away 
finally  of  shame  or  for  want  of  something  to  keep  it  alive. 
These  outbreaks  occasioned  me  much  self-abasement,  and 
I  would  often  cry  out  in  agony  at  the  excess  of  my  passions, 
but  without  much  if  any  good  coming  from  it  that  I  could  see. 
Such  temper  was  unknown  to  my  early  youth,  or  maybe  it 
only  lay  dormant.  For  afterward,  when  fortune  threw  me, 
a  stripling,  into  the  world,  I  was  so  crowded  and  jostled  about, 
as  the  unprotected  are  apt  to  be  in  such  cases — and  generally 
to  their  good — that  from  being  mild  and  gentle,  I  became 
as  fierce  and  intractable  as  a  wild  beast.  However,  I  now 
look  back  upon  this  period  with  a  sense  of  thankfulness  that 
I  did  not  become  so  wedded  to  its  excesses  as  not  to  be  con- 
scious in  the  end  that  I  could  not  thus  get  on  in  the  world, 
but  that  sooner  or  later  I  should  have  it  arrayed  solidly 
against  me.  With  the  aid  of  such  reflections  and  other  help, 


Gilbert  Holmes's  Account  of  Himself  21 

and  the  fact  that  I  was  inclined  to  be  affectionate  if  circum- 
stances favored,  I  was  in  time  able  to  resume  some  part  of  my 
old  cheerfulness  of  manner.  This,  however,  I  believe,  that 
to  those  who  were  kind  to  me,  and  in  every  case  to  those  who 
were  weak,  I  was  never  aught  but  gentle.  For  certainly,  to 
the  unfortunate  my  heart  has  ever  gone  out  in  sympathy;  but 
how  much  of  this  feeling  has  been  due  in  later  years  to  the 
trials  of  my  youth  and  how  much  to  natural  love  of  my  kind, 
I  cannot  tell. 

When  young  my  health  was  a  source  of  anxiety  to  my 
mother,  and  after  I  lost  her,  to  those  who  interested  them- 
selves in  my  affairs,  but  without  any  great  reason,  I  have 
always  thought.  As  a  young  man  my  complexion  was  fair 
and  my  height  not  above  the  medium,  but  because  of  my 
active  life  I  appeared  somewhat  taller  than  I  really  was.  In 
face,  my  nose  was  aquiline,  and  much  too  delicate  to  buffet 
the  world  successfully,  it  was  said  by  those  wise  in  such  mat- 
ters. Of  my  mouth,  it  was  full,  and  my  chin  inclined  to  oe 
pointed  rather  than  heavy.  This  last,  the  village  phrenol- 
ogist said,  denoted  a  subtle  disposition;  but  in  this  I  think 
he  was  mistaken,  though  I  may  say  that  I  ever  possessed  that 
peculiar  sense  which  leads  animals  and  some  men  to  the  adop- 
tion of  measures  necessary  to  their  preservation,  and  this 
without  their  being  conscious  of  its  exercise.  This  trait  is, 
however,  an  instinct,  and  not  one  of  calculation.  In  great 
men  and  in  large  affairs  something  akin  to  it,  but  of  a  higher 
order,  is  called  Apprehension.  Thus  the  great  foresee  what 
is  to  happen,  and  doing  so,  turn  it  to  their  advantage. 

My  mother  said  my  mouth  indicated  a  love  of  artistic 
things,  and  in  this  she  was  clearly  right  so  far  as  her  own  sex 
was  concerned.  For  I  have  always  held  women  in  such  high 
esteem  that  the  least  among  them  have  ever  commanded  my 
love  and'respect.  As  a  lad  there  was  not  a  blithe,  sweet-eyed 
girl  who  pored  over  her  lessons  in  the  log  schoolhouse  by  the 
forest  stream,  about  which  my  early  recollections  cluster, 
whom  I  did  not  look  upon  as  a  divinity.  This  feeling  of  love 


22  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

and  respect  for  the  dainty  companions  of  my  youth  has  ever 
been  my  conception  of  women,  and  now,  when  no  longer 
young,  I  look  upon  them  as  angels  sent  to  eke  out  our  life 
after  it  has  been  robbed  of  the  delusions  of  youth.  This 
feeling  men  share  in  common,  and  it  is  due  to  contrast,  and 
more  particularly  to  woman's  superior  delicacy  of  mind  and 
heart,  and  also  to  something  else,  I  cannot  tell  what.  For 
she  is  and  ever  will  be  an  unfathomable  mystery  to  us,  try  as 
we  may  to  understand  her. 

This  account  of  myself  I  have  striven  to  make  as  favor- 
able as  I  can,  and  if  it  is  partial,  you  will  attribute  it  to  pride, 
and  not  to  vanity.  For  while  all  men  may  be  proud,  no  one 
should  be  vain,  and  the  first  for  the  reason  that  it  is  not  alto- 
gether conscience  or  the  love  of  right  that  keeps  men  from 
wrong.  Pride  is  a  great  factor  in  such  matters,  and  so  far 
as  that  is  true  this  brittle  cactus,  so  unjustly  reviled  by  the 
thoughtless,  should  be  fertilized  according  to  our  needs. 

Like  all  men  born  to  live  in  the  country,  I  have  ever  had 
the  habit  of  trusting  fair-spoken  men.  This  has  resulted  to 
my  disadvantage  many  times,  but  on  the  whole  I  have  not 
been  the  loser  by  it.  For  the  goose  is  bound  to  be  plucked, 
and  is  none  the  worse  for  it  in  the  end,  while  the  feathers  the 
rogue  scatters  along  his  path  serve  in  some  measure  to  indi- 
cate his  whereabouts  afterward  to  the  trusting  and  simple- 
minded. 

In  my  youth  I  was  disregardful  of  money,  and  thus  early 
acquired  credit  for  generosity  that  did  not  belong  to  me. 
Because  of  this  I  have  always  believed  that  merit  in  giving 
ought  to  attach  only  to  those  who  do  so  with  groans  and  con- 
tractions of  the  heartstrings.  For  such  to  give  is  real  gen- 
erosity, and  in  this  regard  it  is  a  subject  of  gratitude  to  me, 
as  it  must  be  to  all  improvident  men,  that  with  the  lapse  of 
years  and  the  coming  on  of  old  age,  no  untoward  circum- 
stance of  poverty  has  caused  me  to  regret  any  foolish  thing 
I  may  have  done  in  disregard  of  matters  relating  to  money; 
and  about  the  possession  of  this  last  there  exists  much  misun- 


Gilbert  Holmes's  Account  of  Himself  23 

derstanding,  I  have  always  thought.  For  I  must  say,  that  for 
the  life  of  me  I  have  never  been  able  to  discover  that  money 
is  more  prized  among  the  trading-people  with  whom  my  life 
has  been  thrown  than  among  the  better  bred  of  other  com- 
munities. In  whomsoever  wealth  dwells,  to  that  person  the 
social  peacock  and  the  common  barnyard  fowl  alike  droop  their 
crests  in  respectful  and  distant  salutation.  Love  of  property 
is  innate  in  man,  and  to  that  love  we  may  trace  most  of  the 
blessings  we  have  above  those  of  common  savages.  About 
this,  however,  men  differ;  but  all  agree  that  those  who  have 
little,  defer  of  their  own  accord  to  those  who  have  more,  and 
that  so  long  as  men  have  vigor  and  the  hope  of  life  their  greed 
of  property  never  ceases  to  grow.  In  my  own  case,  lack  of 
skill  in  getting  and  holding  has  been  said  by  those  who  pro- 
fessed to  understand  such  matters  to  be  clearly  indicated  by 
my  temperament.  This  prediction  may  have  been  true, 
though  it  has  always  been  a  conviction  with  me  that  if  I  had 
devoted  myself  to  making  money  with  proper  spirit  I  might 
have  been  fairly  successful.  In  this,  however,  I  may  be  vain 
without  reason,  but  in  order  to  acquire  and  keep,  one's 
thoughts,  it  is  clear,  must  dwell  much  upon  such  subjects. 
Out  of  this  concentration  comes  the  gift  of  acquiring  and 
holding,  the  genius  of  the  money-getter.  Such  occupation  of 
one's  life  many  esteem  uneventful  and  void  of  interest,  but 
I  am  assured  that  it  is  more  intense  than  the  habit  of  gambling 
or  the  love  of  women ;  indeed,  a  passion  so  great  that  it  eats 
up  all  others,  and  in  its  intensity  is  worthy  to  rank  with  the 
fanaticism  of  martyrs,  the  ambition  of  soldiers,  the  fierce 
egotism  of  artists,  or  the  dry  nervous  disorder  of  writers. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE   WRECK 

My  father  was  a  most  kind  and  lovable  man,  and  while  he 
owned  and  cultivated  a  farm,  he  was  a  trader,  and  nothing 
else.  The  farm  was  a  dream  of  my  mother's,  a  vision  of  her 
girlhood,  never  fulfilled.  He  bought  and  sold  cattle,  and  it 
was  said  could  tell  the  weight  of  an  ox  by  merely  looking 
at  it,  so  that  his  judgment  in  such  matters  was  accepted  every- 
where without  question  by  buyer  and  seller  alike.  One  year, 
I  remember,  because  of  a  great  murrain  breaking  out  among 
the  cattle  in  the  West,  he  turned  his  attention  to  swine,  buy- 
ing all  there  were  in  the  country,  and  this  to  the  great  dis- 
comfiture of  other  dealers,  who  would  not  pay  the  price  he 
offered.  Afterward  he  drove  them  to  market,  where  they 
were  sold  at  a  considerable  advance,  to  the  great  benefit  of  all 
concerned.  This  venture  was  much  thought  of  by  those  who 
profited  by  the  enterprise,  and  added  to  the  high  esteem  in 
which  he  was  already  held  by  the  community  generally.  He 
did  not,  however,  pursue  the  matter  further,  but  returned  the 
next  year  to  his  former  occupation,  to  the  great  regret  of  his 
late  patrons  and  the  no  less  great  satisfaction  of  those  who 
made  a  business  of  buying  and  selling  hogs.  Winter  and 
summer,  in  sunshine  and  storm,  he  traversed  the  country  far 
and  near,  buying  and  selling  cattle.  On  occasion,  however, 
if  opportunity  offered,  he  traded  in  other  things;  but  such 
dealings  were  aside  and  in  the  nature  of  perquisites,  which  he 
lavished  on  my  mother  or  gave  to  the  poor,  of  whom  there 
were  great  numbers  in  the  new  country.  When,  from  time  to 
time,  he  had  exhausted  his  money  and  credit  and  the  market 
was  right,  he  was  in  the  habit  of  collecting  his  herds  at  some 
24 


The  Wreck  25 

central  place  and  driving  them  across  the  country,  usually  to 
St.  Louis,  that  city  being  then  as  now  a  market  of  importance 
and  noted,  as  it  is  to-day,  for  the  enterprise  and  high  charac- 
ter of  its  merchants. 

The  life  my  father  led  was  one  of  hardship  and  constant 
danger,  the  newness  of  the  country  and  the  lawlessness  that 
prevailed  making  travel  dangerous  and  life  insecure.  Such 
things,  however,  did  not  deter  him;  and  by  repeating  his  ven- 
ture many  times  successfully,  it  came  about  at  last  that  he 
was  thought  to  be  among  the  richest  men  in  the  country. 
This  glimpse  of  fortune,  so  alluring,  proved  not  to  be  lasting, 
and  later  appeared  to  have  visited  us  merely  that  the  reverse 
of  the  picture  might  be  the  more  forbidding.  Esteemed 
a  harbinger  of  greater  things  in  store,  it  vanished  in  a  moment 
to  return  no  more. 

In  the  autumn  that  I  reached  my  tenth  year  my  father's 
purchases  were  greater  than  ever  before,  embracing  all  his 
own  resources  and  those  of  his  neighbors  and  friends.  For 
these  last  ever  pressed  upon  him  in  this  way,  that  they  might 
share  in  his  good  fortune — and  willingly  enough  upon  his  part, 
for  he  was  in  all  things  a  most  considerate  and  generous  man. 
At  last,  collecting  all  his  herds,  he  drove  them  by  easy  stages 
across  the  country  to  St.  Louis,  where  he  found  a  market 
favorable  for  their  sale,  as  he  had  thought.  This  venture 
consummated  the  access  of  fortune  he  looked  forward  to,  and 
assured  him  thereafter  ease  and  quietude  of  life  and  the  last- 
ing comfort  of  those  who  were  dear  to  him.  The  goal  so 
many  seek,  and  oftentimes  fruitlessly,  he  had  thus  early  in 
life  fairly  and  honorably  attained.  Closing  up  his  affairs  with 
all  haste,  he  collected  the  proceeds  of  his  venture,  and  with 
his  little  army  of  retainers  set  out  on  his  return  home.  My 
mother,  as  had  often  been  the  case  before,  was  one  of  the 
party,  and  this  that  she  might  be  with  her  husband,  his  pro- 
longed absences  from  home  being  the  one  source  of  unhappi- 
ness  in  her  married  life.  For  they  were  in  all  things  lovers, 
as  at  first;  and  starting  out  on  our  homeward  journey  no  pre- 


26  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

monition  of  coming  misfortune  disturbed  their  happiness  or 
clouded  the  bright  hopes  they  had  of  the  future. 

Pursuing  our  way  leisurely  northward — for  through  my 
mother's  indulgent  love  I  had  been  permitted  to  accompany 
her — we  came,  after  a  wide  detour  which  my  father's  affairs 
caused  him  to  make,  to  the  ferry  where  we  were  to  cross  the 
Great  River  into  Illinois.  This  spot  was  one  not  easily  for- 
gotten, its  beauty  and  solitude  being  such  as  to  awaken 
to  the  full  one's  love  of  the  romantic  and  picturesque  in 
country  life.  On  the  western  shore  a  fringe  of  graceful  trees 
hung  far  over  the  margin  of  the  river,  and  on  the  other  side 
wild  flowers  and  verdant  grasses  covered  the  valley  that  sloped 
back  to  the  hills  upon  which  a  forest  loomed.  Nature,  ever 
dainty  in  her  handicraft,  had  encompassed  the  picture,  as  she 
never  fails  to  do,  with  a  graceful  and  appropriate  setting. 
Some  distance  below  the  crossing,  and  as  if  to  add  piquancy 
to  the  scene,  we  could  plainly  discern  the  foam  of  the  great 
rapids  that  there  interrupted  the  flow  of  the  river,  but  far 
away,  and  purposely,  to  avoid  the  danger  of  travelers  being 
drawn  into  its  turbulent  waters.  In  other  respects  my  father 
thought  the  ferry  unwisely  placed,  because  of  the  contracted 
channel  and  swift-running  current.  No  accident,  however,  had 
ever  occurred ;  and  while  the  water  was  high  at  the  time  of 
which  I  speak,  the  prospect  as  we  stood  waiting  on  the  shore 
was  thought  to  be  exhilarating  rather  than  dangerous. 

Looking  forward  to  the  passage  as  a  pleasant  diversion, 
the  party  rode  onto  the  boat,  commenting  with  cheerful 
gayety  on  the  river  and  the  wide  expanse  of  the  other  shore, 
with  its  background  of  trees  and  projecting  clouds.  These 
last  added  greatly  to  the  beauty  and  grandeur  of  the  scene, 
and  that  they  foretold  danger  in  any  way  we  did  not  dream. 
Such  delusions,  however,  ever  form  a  part  of  the  destiny  of 
men.  The  things  that  menace  us  we  willfully  disregard  in  the 
soft  pleasure  of  idle  talk,  or  lose  sight  of  in  the  desultory 
fancies  of  the  moment. 

When  the  boat  upon  which  we  were  embarked  had  left  the 


The  Wreck  27 

shore,  it  was  discovered,  all  too  late,  that  the  man  in  charge 
was  far  gone  in  drink  and  altogether  stupid,  so  as  not  to 
be  able  to  perform  his  duties  except  in  a  merely  mechan- 
ical way.  However,  to  turn  about  was  impossible,  the 
cumbrous  craft  being  scarcely  able  to  go  forward  in  the 
turbulent  current.  Moreover,  the  difficulties  of  the  situation 
appeared  not  to  be  great,  and  the  necessity  of  skill  on  the 
part  of  the  attendant  a  matter  of  little  or  no  account;  and 
so  it  would  have  been  in  most  cases,  but  not  now,  as  it 
appeared  afterward. 

Our  craft  was  quaint  of  build  in  the  extreme,  and  one  not 
to  be  forgotten.  In  length  it  was  some  forty  feet  and  in  width 
perhaps  a  third  as  much.  On  either  side  a  wheel  projected 
beyond  the  boat,  and  on  the  inner  axle  a  house  perched  in 
which  a  horse  was  hidden.  From  a  distance  the  little  craft 
resembled  a  crippled  waterfowl,  which,  with  half-closed  wings, 
sought  to  rise  above  the  stream,  but  at  best  was  only  able  to 
agitate  the  waters  in  its  struggle  to  get  on.  Our  progress  was 
slow  and  at  times  doubtful,  the  lurching  of  the  boat  oftentimes 
lifting  the  wheels  clear  of  the  water.  Of  this,  however,  we 
thought  little,  as  it  was  in  no  wise  attended  with  danger  of  any 
kind.  Such  was  the  prospect  at  the  moment,  and  in  the  long 
years  that  have  since  intervened  no  detail  of  the  little  group 
as  it  stood  huddled  together  looking  out  on  the  dark  river  has 
faded  from  my  memory,  or  ever  will. 

As  we  neared  the  middle  of  the  stream,  the  storm  which 
had  shown  above  the  hills,  and  which  we  had  so  little 
regarded,  burst  upon  us  with  the  force  of  a  tornado.  At  once 
all  was  confusion  and  uproar,  the  affrighted  animals  rushing 
hither  and  thither,  tipping  the  boat  this  way  and  that  as  if  it 
were  a  mere  eggshell.  Still  we  might  have  come  safely 
to  land,  had  not  the  boatman,  bewildered  by  the  uproar,  lost 
even  the  semblance  of  habit,  and  failing  to  keep  the  bow 
resolutely  to  the  wind,  allowed  it  to  drift  hopelessly  to  one 
side.  At  this,  and  with  scarcely  an  interval  in  which  to  cry 
"God  help  us!"  the  wind  and  waves,  acting  together,  lifted 


28  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

the  little  craft  high  in  the  air,  and  holding  it  aloft  for  a  mo- 
ment as  if  in  mockery,  turned  it  bottom  side  up. 

Before  this,  and  as  the  storm  arose,  my  father  and  mother 
stood  at  the  bow  of  the  boat,  and  happily  for  me  I  had  not 
dismounted,  but  pushing  to  a  place  beside  them,  awaited, 
childlike,  the  coming  shore.  When  the  hurricane  struck  us 
I  remember  to  have  laughed,  for  storms  have  ever  had  an 
attraction  for  me,  and  to  this  day  nothing  gives  me  greater 
pleasure  than  to  listen  to  the  wind  as  it  sweeps  through  the 
trees  or  spends  its  strength  on  whatever  object  impedes  its 
course.  I  had  no  thought  of  danger,  else  why  this  great  boat 
which  seemed  capable  of  withstanding  any  strain?  My 
mother's  fears  and  my  father's  anxious  face,  however,  quickly 
conveyed  to  me  some  sense  of  the  peril  that  threatened  us. 
Nevertheless,  the  music  of  the  tempest  and  the  fitful  gusts  of 
rain  and  spray  that  beat  in  my  face  would  have  drowned  all 
thought  of  danger,  had  not  my  mother's  shrill  cry,  rising 
above  the  roar  of  the  storm  and  calling  my  name,  have 
startled  me  out  of  myself;  and  now,  although  half  a  century 
has  come  and  gone,  I  see  her,  as  then,  standing  by  my  father's 
side,  holding  her  habit  with  one  hand  and  clinging  to  him 
with  the  other,  her  pale  face  directed  toward  mine  in  an  agony 
of  supplication  and  fear.  As  I  looked,  her  lips  moved  in 
prayer,  as  if  in  this  way  she  would  avert  the  danger  that 
threatened  those  she  loved.  The  sight  brought  me  to  my 
senses,  and  rising  in  my  saddle,  I  waved  my  hand,  and  with 
a  look  sought  to  allay  or  lessen  her  fears.  At  this  her  face 
relaxed  and  tears  darkened  her  eyes,  as  if  some  part  of  her 
prayer  was  already  answered.  Oh,  blessed,  fitful  vision  of 
a  being  and  form  divine!  a  glance  only,  but  every  way  suffi- 
cient for  life's  brief  span! 

As  the  storm  increased  in  violence,  the  wind  and  waves 
tossed  our  boat  here  and  there  as  if  it  were  but  a  feather's 
weight.  At  last,  when  it  was  plain  that  the  vessel  was  about 
to  take  its  final  plunge,  I  saw  my  father  grasp  my  mother's 
hand  and  drag  her  to  the  edge  of  the  boat,  crying:  "Quick, 


The  Wreck  29 

Margaret,  for  your  life!"  Calling  to  me  to  cling  ^to  my 
horse  and  give  him  free  rein,  he  lifted  the  great  whip 
he  carried  and  gave  the  animal  a  mighty  stroke  across  the 
back.  At  this  the  horse,  startled  out  of  himself,  sprang  for- 
ward, clearing  the  vessel's  side  at  a  bound,  and  thus  in 
a  second  I  found  myself  submerged  in  the  angry  waters.  Com- 
ing to  the  surface,  I  saw  my  father  a  few  feet  away,  support- 
ing my  mother,  and  now,  strange  sight!  she  seemed  to  have 
no  fear  whatever — at  least  her  face  gave  no  sign  of  it;  but 
this  was  not  out  of  the  ordinary,  for  she  was  always  trusting 
and  womanlike,  believing  that  in  his  company  no  harm  could 
come  to  her.  So  that  now,  when  the  fierce  waters  swept 
over  her,  she  clung  about  his  neck  with  the  same  confidence, 
I  must  believe,  that  she  had  felt  when  he  led  her  to  the  altar. 
For  a  moment  we  stayed  together,  but  not  longer;  and  as  my 
pony  straightened  out  in  the  struggle  to  reach  the  shore, 
I  called  back : 

"I'm  all  right,  pap;  hold  onto  mother,  and  I'll  soon  bring 
you  help!" 

Oh,  hopeful,  evanescent  spirit  of  youth!  To  you  naught 
is  impossible  or  beyond  God's  power  to  help.  Of  our  com- 
panions who  struggled  with  despairing  cries  in  vain  effort  to 
free  themselves  from  the  dreadful  wreck,  what  shall  I  say 
except  to  pray  God  that  I  may  be  spared  from  ever  seeing  or 
hearing  anything  so  pitiful  again. 


CHAPTER  IV 

BLACK  HAWK,  THE  SAC  KING 

Submerged  in  the  icy  stream,  the  waves  and  fierce  current 
impeded  our  progress  toward  the  shore,  and  soon,  the  effort 
being  too  great  for  my  pony's  strength,  he  showed  signs  of 
exhaustion,  rising  each  time  with  greater  difficulty  from  the 
water  as  the  waves  rolled  high  above  our  heads.  Observing 
this,  I  slipped  from  his  back  and  caught  the  stirrup  with  one 
hand,  swimming  with  the  other;  but  now  my  weight  being  on 
one  side,  threw  him  off  his  balance,  so  that  he  more  than  once 
came  nigh  to  being  overturned.  In  this  extremity  I  knew  not 
what  to  do;  but  when  hope  was  fast  giving  way  to  despair, 
I  bethought  me  how  my  father  had  once  saved  his  life  in  a  like 
case,  and  so  releasing  the  stirrup  I  caught  hold  of  the  pony's* 
tail.  At  this,  freed  from  the  unequal  burden,  he  shot  forward 
with  new  life,  seeming  no  longer  to  regard  my  weight  in  the 
least.  In  this  way  we  at  last  approached  the  shore,  where 
soon  my  horse's  feet,  and  then  my  own,  touched  the  bottom, 
and  we  were  saved.  Climbing  the  bank,  my  joy  was  shared 
by  my  sturdy  companion,  for  as  we  emerged  from  the  water 
he  straightened  out  his  nose  and  whinnied  again  and  again, 
as  if  in  triumph.  Patting  him  on  the  neck,  I  rested,  looking 
back  across  the  angry  waters;  but  nothing  met  my  gaze  save 
the  high-rolling  waves  tipped  with  foam  and  flying  spray. 
Unable  to  make  headway,  my  father  and  mother  had  drifted 
with  the  current,  and  this  toward  the  dreadful  rapids,  now 
scarce  a  mile  away.  At  the  thought  I  sprang  into  the  saddle, 
calling  in  a  frenzy  of  fear:  "Father!  father!  mother! 
mother!"  but  foolishly,  for  no  sound  answered  my  cry  save 
the  splash  of  the  water  and  the  whir  of  the  tempest  as  it  swept 
3° 


Black  Hawk,  the  Sac  King  31 

across  the  darkened  river.  Trembling  with  frignt,  I  put  spur 
to  my  horse,  hoping  to  intercept  their  progress  ere  it  was  too 
late,  but  how  I  could  not  tell.  In  this  way  I  went  on  until 
I  could  plainly  hear  the  roar  of  the  rapids,  but  of  means  of 
rescue  I  could  discern  none  whatever.  This  until  as  I  skirted 
a  little  bay  I  was  gladdened  by  the  sight  of  a  boat  drawn  up 
on  the  shore  and  half  hidden  by  the  overhanging  shrubbery. 
Seeing  it,  I  gave  a  shout,  and  looking  about,  saw  in  the  edge 
of  the  forest,  which  here  grew  nearly  to  the  water's  edge, 
a  rude  hut  of  logs.  Jumping  from  my  horse,  I  ran  toward  it, 
and  without  waiting  to  make  summons  of  any  kind,  burst  in 
the  door,  which  was  but  loosely  held  with  a  wooden  latch.  At 
first  I  could  see  no  one,  but  scanning  the  interior,  all  its  parts 
became  fixed  in  my  brain  as  if  it  were  for  that  and  nothing 
else  that  I  had  come.  At  the  farther  extremity  of  the  room, 
on  a  rude  hearth,  a  dull  fire  burned,  and  above  it  a  kettle  of 
water  simmered.  From  the  rafters  festoons  of  corn  hung, 
and  near  by  vegetables  and  pieces  of  venison  and  smoked  fish. 
On  the  wall  a  bunch  of  arrows,  loosely  tied,  was  held  by 
a  wooden  peg,  and  beside  it  an  Indian  bow.  Below  this  a  rifle 
rested.  Of  furniture  there  was  none,  pallets  of  bear  and 
panther  skins  serving  alike  for  seats  and  beds.  On  the  floor 
a  gourd  filled  with  water  supplied  the  place  of  pail  and  cup, 
and  in  the  corner  a  rude  box  answered  for  a  cupboard.  At 
my  feet  a  floor  hard  as  flint  glistened  in  the  dim  light  like 
polished  oak;  and  this  was  all.  No  detail  of  the  dark  inclos- 
ure  escaped  me,  yet  while  thus  seeing  without  consciousness, 
my  eyes  sought  the  help  I  came  for,  and  this  fortunately,  for 
in  the  twilight  of  the  room  and  in  lonely  abandonment  an 
Indian  woman  sat.  Her  bent  form  and  worn  and  wrinkled 
face  told  of  a  life  of  sorrow  and  'hardship,  and  my  first 
thought  was  one  of  discouragement;  but  giving  it  no  heed, 
I  ran  to  where  she  sat,  and  grasping  her  hand,  cried,  at  the 
top  of  my  voice: 

"Help!  help  me  to  save  my  father  and  mother  who  are 
drowning  in  the  river,  and  quick,  before  it's  too  late!" 


32  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

At  this  she  looked  up  as  if  not  fully  understanding,  but 
upon  repeating  my  appeal,  she  rose  to  her  feet,  saying  slowly, 
as  if  not  accustomed  to  the  tongue,  but  plainly  as  one  could 
wish: 

"What  has  happened  to  the  white-faced  child?" 

"The  ferryboat's  upset,  and  they're  in  the  river;  but  we 
can  reach  them  before  it's  too  late,  if  you'll  come  with  me, 
and  quick,"  I  answered,  grasping  her  hand. 

"The  white  child's  mother's  in  the  water?"  she  answered, 
interrogating  me  and  pointing  toward  the  river. 

"Yes,  my  father  and  mother;  and  quick,  please,  or  it'll  be 
too  late,"  I  answered,  in  a  frenzy  of  haste.  Comprehending 
at  last,  she  answered,  and  now  with  animation  and  a  wish  to 
aid  me: 

"Yes,  yes,  my  child;  I'll  come,  I'll  come." 

Saying  which,  she  started  forward,  but  as  she  did  so  the 
room  darkened,  and  looking  up  I  saw  an  Indian  chief  standing 
in  the  open  door.  His  face  and  rugged  features,  bronzed  by 
the  sun,  bore  traces  of  paint,  and  surmounting  his  head,  which 
seemed  higher  and  greater  than  that  of  other  men,  there 
waved  a  plume  of  crimson  encircled  about  with  feathers  of 
the  sparrow-hawk.  When  he  smiled  with  gentle  tenderness 
on  my  companion  I  was  filled  with  new  hope;  but  a  moment 
after,  looking  in  my  direction,  his  face  darkened,  as  if  he  saw 
in  me  one  of  a  race  he  hated,  and  so  was  dumb.  Trembling, 
I  could  not  speak;  and  looking  toward  him  spellbound,  his 
form,  before  commanding,  seemed  to  tower  higher  and  higher, 
while  his  eyes  glowed  in  his  dark  face  as  if  emitting  flames  of 
fire.  Looking  up,  the  woman  spoke  to  him  in  the  Indian 
tongue,  smiling  as  she  did  so;  but  to  all  she  said  he  paid  no 
heed.  At  last,  going  to  where  he  stood,  she  put  her  hand 
upon  his  breast  and  spoke  to  him  again,  and  now  with 
entreaty,  as  if  asking  a  boon,  pointing  first  at  me  and  then 
toward  the  river.  As  she  went  on  in  this  way,  his  features 
after  a  while  relaxed,  and  finally  reaching  out  his  hand  as  if  in 
acquiescence,  he  let  it  rest  in  gentle  caress  upon  her  upturned 


Black  Hawk,  the  Sac  King  33 

face.  At  this  she  smiled  and  drew  back,  as  if  made  happy  by 
his  touch.  Crossing  the  room  and  opening  a  door  that  led 
into  a  dark  inclosure,  he  brought  forth  an  oaken  oar,  and 
looking  toward  me,  said,  as  one  accustomed  to  command,  but 
not  unkindly,  "Come."  Upon  this,  and  without  speaking, 
I  followed  to  the  shore  where  the  boat  lay  hid.  Shoving 
it  into  the  stream,  he  motioned  me  to  enter,  seating  himself 
in  the  stern.  Pointing  upward  as  we  reached  the  open  water, 
I  cried: 

"There,  there!  they  must  be  there!" 

To  this  he  vouchsafed  no  reply,  but  dipping  his  oar  far 
into  the  water,  the  little  boat  shot  into  the  bay  and  thence 
into  the  stream  beyond.  This,  while  still  disturbed  by  high- 
rolling  waves,  was  no  longer  lashed  by  the  storm,  the  hurri- 
cane having  passed  as  quickly  as  it  came.  Standing  up  in 
the  boat,  as  we  went  forward  my  eyes  sought  in  vain  for  some 
glimpse  of  those  we  came  to  help.  At  last,  seeing  nothing, 
fear  chilled  my  heart  and  my  limbs  grew  cold;  but  as  we 
neared  the  center  of  the  stream  and  were  yet  unable  to  dis- 
cover any  trace  of  those  we  sought,  I  saw  above  the  glisten- 
ing whitecaps,  far  away,  an  object  rising  and  falling  in  the 
troubled  waters.  Filled  with  new  hope,  I  pointed  toward  it, 
crying: 

"There,  there  they  are!" 

Upon  this  my  companion,  putting  forth  all  his  strength,  the 
boat  flew  through  the  water  as  a  swallow  might  cut  its  surface, 
and  in  a  moment  I  was  made  happy  by  the  sight  of  my  father 
upholding  the  form  of  my  dear  mother.  At  this  I  called  to 
them,  but  they  returned  no  answer  to  my  anxious  cry;  and 
at  last,  when  we  had  reached  the  spot,  I  should  still  have  lost 
them  except  for  the  great  strength  of  my  companion,  who, 
stooping,  lifted  first  my  mother  and  then  my  father  into  the 
boat,  "and  they  were  safe. 

Embracing  them,  with  tears  of  joy,  I  stripped  off  my  jacket 
and  wrapped  it  about  my  mother's  form,  and  for  this  she 
gave  me  a  gentle  smile,  but  speech  or  motion  seemed  gone 


34  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

from  her  forever.  At  the  sight,  my  father,  who  did  not 
appear  much  the  worse  for  his  adventure,  fell  to  chafing  her 
hands  and  limbs,  I  helping,  and  this  with  such  vigor  that  in 
a  little  while  she  was  able  to  move  and  speak.  Now,  after 
some  further  respite,  my  father  turned  about  and  thanked  our 
rescuer  with  every  show  of  love  and  gratitude  for  what  he  had 
done.  To  this,  however,  the  other  made  no  response,  nor 
indeed  appeared  to  have  heard  what  was  said  to  him.  His 
eyes,  turned  toward  the  shore,  were  fixed  on  the  dark  forest 
we  were  fast  approaching,  and  this  as  if  there  was  naught  else 
on  earth.  Thinking  he  had  not  heard,  my  father  thanked  him 
again,  and  now  more  earnestly.  To  this  the  chief  at  last 
responded,  but  without  lowering  his  gaze  or  manifesting  any 
interest  whatever  in  those  about  him. 

"Thank  La  Reine!  It  is  she,  the  soft-hearted,  who  has 
saved  you,  not  I."  , 

"You,  too,  surely;  and  we  can  never  thank  you  enough," 
my  mother  answered,  turning  to  him. 

"Yes,  and  we  shall  treasure  your  memory  as  long  as  we 
live,  for  we  owe  you  our  lives,  and  shall  be  ever  grateful  for 
it,"  my  father  again  spoke  up. 

"Speak  not  to  me  of  gratitude,  for  it  has  no  meaning  in 
the  mouths  of  such  as  you.  The  voice  of  your  race  is  ever 
thus  soft-spoken,  but  only  that  it  may  the  better  hide  its 
treachery,"  the  chief  answered,  but  absently  and  without 
passion,  as  if  addressing  an  invisible  spirit. 

"Now  and  here,  and  to  those  we  love  and  to  whom  we  owe 
our  lives,  it  is  true  and  as  we  say,"  my  father  answered,  sur- 
prised out  of  himself  at  what  the  other  said. 

"It  is  ever  the  same,  and  has  no  spark  of  life  in  it,  more 
than  the  mist  above  yonder  troubled  waters,"  the  other 
answered,  without  lowering  his  gaze.  "It  was  with  such 
speech  that  your  race  crept  into  my  country,  and  like  a  tide 
that  rises  in  the  night  overcame  and  destroyed  my  people, 
while  they  yet  trusted  and  believed,  and  so  it  has  always 
been." 


Black  Hawk,  the  Sac  King  35 

"Surely  that  cannot  be  laid  to  us,  for  we  have  never 
injured  your  people  in  any  way.  Tell  us  who  you  are,  your 
name  only,  if  you  will,  so  that  we  may  treasure  it  as  long  as 
we  live,  and  our  children  afterward,"  my  father  cried  in  des- 
peration, as  if  determined  not  to  be  thus  put  off. 

"I  have  no  name  nor  place  in  life,"  the  chief  answered, 
sorrowfully,  raising  his  eyes  to  the  clouds  that  flew  across  the 
darkened  sky.  "In  my  youth  I  trusted  your  race,  and  thought 
to  live  with  it  in  peace,  dreaming  of  great  and  noble  things 
for  my  people.  In  the  end  I  have  done  nothing,  and  dying 
shall  leave  no  trace,  more  than  the  wind  that  sweeps  the  tops 
of  yonder  trees,  or  the  leaves  that  fall  bitten  by  the  winter's 
frost.  As  soon  seek  to  follow  the  flight  of  the  bird  that  has 
been  snared  or  the  path  of  the  fish  in  the  tumbling  waters,  for 
I  have  done  nothing,  and  have  no  home  nor  place  among  men. 
A  king  and  the  son  of  kings,  I  dare  not  whisper  my  name  lest 
the  air  betray  it  to  my  enemies  and  I  suffer  unjustly!  Coming 
among  us,  your  race  divided  my  children,  as  the  clouds  are 
parted  or  the  lightning  cleaves  the  towering  cottonwood. 
Scattered,  where  are  they?  Ask  the  Great  Spirit,  for  only  he 
can  tell!  Living  in  concord,  you  brought  division;  loving 
their  king,  you  sowed  distrust;  loyal,  you  planted  treason; 
sober,  you  made  them  drunk  that  you  might  buy  their  lands 
for  a  song.  Now  driven  from  their  birthplace,  they  seek  in 
a  strange  land  the  home  of  those  who  have  no  country ;  and 
I,  coming  back  like  a  thief  to  visit  the  forests  and  streams  of 
my  youth,  dare  not  speak  my  name  aloud.  Thank  me  not, 
for  it  is  the  act  of  the  doe,  the  gentle-hearted  La  Reine, 
not  I." 

Ceasing,  he  raised  his  hand  as  if  to  forbid  further  speech, 
and  giving  the  paddle  a  deeper  and  longer  sweep,  quickly 
brought  the  boat  into  the  cove  from  whence  we  came.  Secur- 
ing the  little  craft,  the  chief  took  my  mother  in  his  arms  and 
carried  her  to  the  cabin,  where  a  great  fire  now  welcomed  our 
coming.  Placing  her  upon  a  bed  of  furs,  he  spoke  some  words 
to  La  Reine  in  her  own  tongue,  and  then  taking  the  rifle  from 


36  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

its  place,  opened  the  door  and  went  away.  Nor  did  he 
return;  and  to  all  our  inquiries  La  Reine  answered  only,  and 
sadly,  that  we  should  see  him  no  more.  Nor  would  she  tell 
his  name,  nor  aught  of  his  history  save  that  he  was  a  chief 
whose  people  had  been  divided  and  scattered,  yielding  their 
homes  to  the  whites.  Thus  to  their  dying  day  my  father  and 
mother  knew  not  that  it  was  Black  Hawk,  the  Sac  chief,  who 
had  saved  their  lives.  Nor  I  for  many  years,  and  then  only 
by  chance  was  I  made  acquainted  with  it. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  SWATH  OF  THE  HURRICANE 

When  at  last  I  saw  my  mother  resting  on  the  soft  couch  of 
furs  in  the  glow  of  the  cheerful  fire,  my  strength  left  me,  and 
I  fell  forward  on  her  body  as  one  dead.  Such  weakness,  you 
must  know,  ever  afflicted  me  in  my  youth,  though  I  sought  to 
overcome  it,  as  indicating  the  absence  of  control  that  strong 
people  have,  but  without  any  success  until  I  was  near  a  man 
grown.  When  I  returned  to  consciousness,  my  mother  was 
bending  over  me  murmuring  prayers  and  entreaties  with  the 
vain  efforts  they  were  making  to  bring  me  back  to  life. 

"My  child,  my  sweet  child,  come  back  to  me!  Speak  to 
your  mother!  Open  your  eyes  and  smile,  sweet  one!  O  God, 
he  does  not  breathe;  he's  dead,  my  darling  boy!"  she  cried 
at  last,  relaxing  her  efforts  in  a  paroxysm  of  grief;  but  I, 
regaining  my  senses  as  quickly  as  I  had  lost  them,  clasped  her 
about  the  neck  and  kissed  her,  crying  out: 

"I  am  not  dead,  mother,  though  I  thought  I'd  lost  you 
and  pap,  I  was  so  long  away  and  the  water  was  so  cold." 

"Oh,  my  sweet  child!"  was  all  the  answer  she  could  make, 
as  she  buried  her  face  in  the  soft  pillow  beside  my  own. 

"Did  you  think  I'd  never  come?"  I  asked,  caressing  her 
hair  and  face. 

"We  heard  you  call  back  that  you  would  bring  us  help, 
but  we  could  see  no  way,  and  were  given  over  to  despair  and 
death  when  at  last  you  reached  us.  Oh,  you  were  brave,  my 
darling,  to  have  planned  as  you  did.  Surely  God  must  have 
guided  you." 

"He  did,  dear  mother,  and  except  for  your  prayer  I'd 
never  have  reached  the  shore  or  known  what  to  do  once  I  got 

37 


38  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

there";  and  this,  her  prayer  to  the  good  Lord  to  protect 
her  son,  has  been  a  legacy  of  love  and  tenderness  to  me  to 
this  day.  For  throughout  all  my  life  the  sweet  vision  has  not 
faded,  nor  will  to  the  end,  nor  afterward,  I  must  believe. 

My  father,  now  that  the  danger  was  past,  appeared  much 
cast  down,  and  so  sat  silent  and  despondent  beside  the 
pallet  on  which  I  lay.  Seeing  him,  I  cried: 

"Oh,  pap,  you  looked  so  brave  and  grand  as  you  struggled 
in  the  water!  and  when  I  saw  you  with  mother  clinging 
about  your  neck  I  never  loved  you  half  so  much" ;  and  reach- 
ing up  I  pulled  him  down  and  kissed  him,  and  doing  so,  my 
face  was  wet  as  with  rain  with  his  tears. 

"Except  for  you,  my  son,  our  struggle  had  been  in  vain; 
for  in  a  few  minutes  we  should  have  been  drawn  into  the 
rapids,  and  that  would  have  been  the  end.  I  am  glad  you 
have  shown  yourself  so  strong,  my  child,  for  your  mother  will 
soon  need  your  young  arms,  I  fear,  for  strength  and  life  seem 
forever  dead  within  me,"  he  answered,  in  a  voice  so  full  of 
lugubrious  forebodings  that  I  cried  out  as  if  some  great  mis- 
fortune hung  over  us.  My  mother,  too,  burying  her  face  in 
my  bosom,  also  began  to  weep,  and  thus,  despite  our  being 
saved,  we  all  mourned  as  if  some  dreadful  mishap  threatened. 

"Oh,  pap,"  I  answered  at  last,  "I'm  too  small  to  do  more 
than  love  you  and  come  to  you  for  everything  I  want,  but 
we've  got  ourselves,  and  what  more  is  there?  When  I'm 
a  man  I'll  give  you  all  I  have,  and  we  will  make  mother  love 
us  more  and  more  every  day." 

To  this  he  made  no  response,  save  a  sob  and  the  pressure 
of  his  hand,  which  was  icy  cold.  Nor  did  he  ever  afterward 
speak  to  me  in  the  old  way,  for  from  that  time  a  dreadful 
melancholy  seized  him,  which  never  departed  nor  lightened, 
but  grew  steadily  darker  each  day  until  the  end. 

For  our  present  comfort  there  was  not  one  thing  lacking, 
the  good  Indian  woman  nursing  us  as  if  we  were  her  own 
children,  so  that  in  a  little  while  we  were  well  and  strong  as 
before.  As  soon  as  my  father  had  rested,  he  set  out  in  search 


The  Swath  of  the  Hurricane  39 

of  our  companions,  not  returning  till  the  evening  of  the  fol- 
lowing day.  Of  those  he  sought,  however,  there  was  no  trace. 
All  were  lost,  and  with  them  the  heaped-up  wealth  they  had 
in  charge.  Comforting  my  mother  and  refreshing  himself, 
he  started  again,  but  without  result,  save  to  recover  the 
bodies  of  some  of  our  companions  as  they  came  to  the  surface 
far  down  the  river.  Of  the  treasure  there  was  no  sign;  the 
great  rapids  had  sucked  it  down  and  so  tossed  and  dispersed 
it  about  that  no  trace  of  it  could  be  discovered. 

After  many  days'  fruitless  effort  in  this  way  my  father  gave 
up  the  search;  and  now  determining  to  return  home,  my  little 
pony  was  brought  to  the  door  for  my  mother  to  mount. 
Then  as  we  were  about  to  take  our  departure,  looking  on  our 
benefactress,  we  all  with  one  accord  burst  into  tears  at  the 
remembrance  of  her  kindness  and  the  unhappy  fate  of  our  late 
companions.  At  this  the  good  La  Reine,  putting  her  arms 
about  my  neck,  kissed  me,  calling  me  her  son,  adding  some 
words  in  her  own  tongue  that  I  did  not  understand.  Then 
turning,  she  embraced  and  kissed  my  mother,  tears  trickling 
down  her  sad  face  as  she  did  so.  Of  money  or  other  valuables 
we  had  none  to  leave  in  remembrance  of  her  kindness,  until 
my  mother,  bethinking  her,  loosened  a  great  chain  from  about 
her  throat — my  father's  gift — and  reaching  down,  clasped  it 
about  the  neck  of  our  benefactress. 

"We  shall  never  forget  you,  dear  mother,"  she  said,  tears 
running  down  her  face;  "you  have  been  our  good  angel,  and 
may  God  bless  you  for  your  love  and  kindness  to  us." 

"The  Great  Spirit  is  good,  and  will  keep  all  his  children," 
La  Reine  answered,  sadly  and  in  farewell. 

Thus  we  took  our  departure,  my  father  supporting  my 
mother  on  one  side  and  I  clasping  the  stirrup  on  the  other. 
Looking  back  as  we  turned  to  ascend  the  stream,  we  saw  La 
Reine  as  we  had  left  her  before  the  little  hut,  her  eyes  fixed 
on  ours,  a  melancholy  picture  of  gentleness  and  lonely  aban- 
donment. 

Our  sad  journey  occupied  many  days,  and  oftentimes  as 


40  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

we  marched  along  my  mother  would  reach  down,  and  lifting 
me  up,  fold  me  in  her  arms,  saying,  "Let  me  hold  you 
,a  minute,  you  little  waif."  Or  maybe  she  would  place  me 
behind  her,  "just  to  give  your  tired  legs  a  little  rest,"  she 
would  say,  with  an  attempt  at  cheerfulness.  Throughout  the 
journey  was  one  of  sorrow  and  dark  forebodings,  my  father's 
melancholy  growing  greater  as  the  days  went  by.  In  such 
mood  he  would  stride  ahead  like  one  crazed,  waving  his  hand 
fretfully  back  and  forth  before  his  eyes,  as  if  to  shut  out  some 
horrible  vision;  or  from  being  silent  for  a  long  time,  would 
suddenly  cry  out:  "Oh,  God,  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  are  they  all 
gone,  every  one?"  and  at  the  remembrance  great  tears,  like 
blots  of  ink,  would  start  in  his  weary  eyes,  and  his  face  would 
flush  as  if  the  pain  of  it  was  something  too  great  to  bear. 
Sweet  mother!  Angel  of  mercy!  How  lovingly  you  watched 
over  him  during  that  long  and  weary  journey,  and  afterward. 
This  as  if  he  were  an  ailing  child,  and  by  love  and  endearing 
words  could  be  brought  back  to  his  former  self;  but  vainly, 
for  no  cheerful  smile,  nor  trace  of  one,  ever  again  showed 
itself  in  his  sad  and  haggard  face. 

When  at  last  we  reached  home,  the  good  people  from  far 
and  near  flocked  to  our  house  to  show  their  sorrow  and 
mingle  their  tears  with  ours;  and  of  those  who  had  lost  the 
part  or  the  whole  of  their  fortune,  no  hint  was  given  that  they 
in  any  way  mourned.  All  alike  were  tender  and  solicitous  to 
lessen,  if  they  might,  the  melancholy  of  my  father,  or  lighten 
the  burden  of  my  sorrowing  mother.  He,  moving  about  as 
if  asleep  or  dead,  mingled  with  the  guests,  saying  nothing, 
gazing  with  melancholy  sweetness  upon  those  who  came  to 
proffer  aid,  but  accepting  naught.  When  at  last  they  had 
gone  their  way  and  we  were  once  more  alone,  he  straightway 
bestirred  himself  as  in  former  times.  Collecting  all  his 
belongings,  he  forced  them  to  sale  for  what  they  would  bring, 
dividing  the  proceeds  among  those  who  had  suffered,  giving 
most  to  the  families  of  those  who  were  lost.  Many  sought  to 
refuse,  but  he  received  their  overtures  with  such  savage  dis- 


The  Swath  of  the  Hurricane  41 

pleasure  that  no  one  was  able,  finally,  to  decline  what  he 
offered.  In  this  way  we  lost  all  we  had,  and  with  it  our 
home,  which  my  mother  had  named  Wild  Plum,  because  of 
a  pretty  grove  of  trees  of  this  kind  that  grew  near  by.  In  its 
transfer  reservations  were  made  which  were  much  talked 
about  at  the  time  as  in  some  way  likely  to  lessen  the  grief  of 
my  father;  but  vainly,  for  he  gave  no  thought  to  anything 
save  to  divide  what  he  had  among  those  who  had  suffered. 

Alas,  if  this  had  been  all,  or  the  end!  But  when  there  was 
nothing  more  to  give,  the  strain  relaxing,  he  broke  down,  and 
this  to  his  complete  undoing.  The  struggle  in  the  river  and 
the  death  of  his  followers,  and  the  losses  of  those  who  had 
suffered  through  him,  brought  on  a  fever  of  the  head,  from 
which  he  had  no  sooner  recovered  than  he  was  stricken 
afresh.  This  last,  passing  away  under  my  mother's  care,  was 
followed  by  a  more  dreadful  and  final  attack.  Thus  his  life 
was  wrecked,  and  with  it  that  of  my  mother,  for  the  days  of 
anxiety  and  the  passing  away  of  her  husband  broke  her  heart. 
Awhile  she  struggled  against  the  doom  that  closed  about  her, 
but  only  feebly,  and  on  account  of  her  child.  For  she  had 
no  desire  to  live,  and  so  feeling,  died,  her  last  words  being 
a  prayer  for  the  welfare  of  her  son. 

Thus  our  little  family,  detached  from  its  moorings  by  an 
untoward  event,  floated  for  a  while  like  driftwood  on  the  tur- 
bulent stream,  only  at  last  to  be  dispersed  and  lost.  Saddest 
of  days  were  these  to  me,  for  doubly  unfortunate  is  the  child 
bereft  of  a  mother's  love.  All  the  warmth  and  sweet  juices 
of  life  that  make  childhood  a  vision  of  love  are  lodged  in  her 
breast,  and  with  her  gone  the  gates  of  heaven  are  as  if  closed 
forever.  In  this  way,  and  as  I  have  described,  there  passed 
out  of  the  world's  busy  life  two  youthful  and  loving  hearts 
that  only  a  little  while  before  had  fondly  looked  forward  to 
a  life  of  companionship  and  sweet  contentment. 


CHAPTER  VI 

LOVE'S  IDEALS 

All  men,  and  more  especially  those  of  a  sympathetic  nature, 
have  in  their  youth  not  one  divinity  only,  but  many,  toward 
which  their  minds  turn  with  love  and  fond  entreaty.  After- 
ward, when  these  romantic  attachments  have  given  place  to 
other  and  more  serious  things,  our  lives  are  still  colored  by 
them,  and  to  our  lasting  benefit.  For  such  attachments,  how- 
ever evanescent,  shape  the  destinies  of  men  and  sweeten  their 
lives  as  with  the  gentle  fragrance  of  a  flower. 

Nor  are  we  less  sincere  in  youth  because  the  glass  that 
reflects  the  image  of  our  love  to-day  shadows  forth  another 
picture  quite  as  attractive  on  the  morrow.  All  are  real,  and 
add  to  the  attractiveness  of  men's  lives,  as  does  every  com- 
forting or  ennobling  thought.  The  opening  prospect  of  youth 
ever  mirrors  the  present  to  the  exclusion  of  the  future,  for 
which  it  has  no  thought;  and,  similarly,  the  newness  of  the 
world  and  its  constant  changes  crowd  out  the  imagery  of 
yesterday  with  the  expectations  of  to-day.  For  that  which 
is  past  there  is,  for  the  present,  no  retrospective  glance.  Its 
attachments  and  delusions,  however,  are  none  the  less  real, 
and  though  seemingly  without  purpose,  serve  to  enrich  the 
heart  and  build  up  a  love  of  life's  graces  that  sweetens  and 
softens  the  character  of  men  forever  afterward.  Lacking 
such  food,  the  mind  and  heart  are  deficient  in  the  things  that 
make  men  something  more  than  animals.  For  the  imagery 
of  life,  be  it  good  or  bad,  has  its  growth  in  youth,  but  its  pic- 
tures pass  so  quickly,  one  upon  the  other,  that  only  in  after 
years  do  they  recur  to  charm  our  lives  with  their  reflected 
glow  or  darken  it  with  their  somber  shadows. 


Love's  Ideals  43 

These  thoughts,  however  trite  they  may  be,  recur  to  me 
now  when  I  recall  the  memory  of  my  mother.  So  long  as  she 
lived  she  possessed  my  tenderest  affection,  and  nowhere 
except  in  her  could  I  discern  all  that  was  good  and  beautiful 
in  woman.  While,  however,  I  set  her  thus  apart,  a  being  to 
revere  and  worship,  other  imaginings  of  which  I  was  not  con- 
scious were  already  beginning  to  light  the  fires  of  love  along 
the  pathway  of  my  opening  life.  Looking  back  now  over  the 
fast-fading  years  of  my  youth,  I  cannot  recall  any  period  that 
did  not  thus  have  its  imagery  of  love — its  reflection  of  a  youth- 
ful face  set  about  with  some  sweet  femininity  that  attracted 
and  held  me,  but  unobtrusively  as  a  lily  might  take  my  fancy 
or  the  green  of  a  meadow  bordered  about  with  trees  and 
flowers.  Such  impressions  have  no  consciousness  at  the  time, 
and  are  doubly  tender  and  lasting  because  thus  expressionless ; 
for  woven  in  with  the  little  things  of  life,  they  form  the  ideals 
of  our  youth  and  the  tender  strands  that  expand  the  heart  and 
make  mature  existence  tolerable. 

In  my  mother  I  saw  perfection,  and  if  I  found  in  another 
some  sweet  intrusion  of  character  or  line  of  beauty,  it  was  but 
a  reflection  of  something  more  perfect  in  her.  Because  of 
this  great  love,  I  have  ever  esteemed  it  the  most  happy  circum- 
stance of  my  being  that  at  the  time  of  losing  her  there  should 
have  come  into  my  life  one  who  was  like  her  in  gentleness  and 
sweetness  of  character.  So  that  while  I  ever  cherished  her 
memory  with  tenderest  affection,  I  could  never  afterward 
picture  her  as  different  in  any  way  from  the  sweet  being  who 
now  came  to  take  her  place  in  all  the  dreams  and  longings 
of  my  life. 

Such  was  Constance  Seymour,  of  whom  I  speak;  and  it 
being  true  that  we  were  both  motherless  and  in  a  measure  for- 
lorn in  the  world,  we  straightway  came  to  love  each  other, 
and  in  that  sweet  solace  of  life  found  the  contentment  and 
happiness  our  hearts  so  greatly  craved;  and  it  was  wholly  due 
to  her  love  and  gentle  nature  that  I  did  not  lose  interest  in 
the  soft  amenities  of  life  after  my  mother's  death  or  cease  to 


44  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

make  some  effort  to  fulfill  the  aims  to  which  she  had  so  hope- 
fully looked  forward.  Thus  buoyed  and  cheered  in  my  new 
life,  and  with  my  heart  overflowing  with  love  for  the  sweet 
creature,  and  desire  above  all  things  for  her  good  opinion, 
I  was  able  to  look  upon  the  mishaps  that  befell  me  as  things 
not  worth  considering  in  comparison  with  the  happiness  of 
being  thought  well  of  by  her. 


CHAPTER  VII 

GILBERT'S  FLIGHT 

Thus,  in  the  way  I  have  described,  my  life  passed  without 
any  great  shock  from  the  old  to  the  new,  and  now,  some  time 
having  elapsed  and  Constance  being  with  me,  I  passed  my 
last  day  at  Wild  Plum  happily,  if  not  in  forgetfulness  of  what 
had  gone  before.  Together  we  visited  the  little  brook  and 
the  red-leaved  plum-trees  and  the  great  forest  beyond,  on  the 
edge  of  which  we  had  passed  so  many  happy  hours.  Every 
place  about  the  old  home  we  visited,  my  leave-taking  of  each 
sweet  belonging  being  so  filled  with  her  dear  companionship 
that  its  melancholy  was  for  the  moment  quite  lost  upon  me. 
This,  however,  was  always  the  way,  her  presence  causing  me 
to  forget  what  was  sorrowful  in  life  in  the  delight  of  being 
near  her. 

When  at  last  the  sun  was  well  down  in  the  west,  and  the 
shadows  of  the  forest  ran  far  into  the  unkempt  prairie,  giving 
its  grasses  a  darker  hue,  Constance's  father  came  to  take  her 
home  in  the  way  it  had  been  planned.  I  was  to  go  to  my 
Aunt  Jane's,  my  father's  sister,  to  become  her  ward,  and 
henceforth  to  make  my  home  with  her.  This  disposition  of 
my  life  occasioned  me  much  unhappiness,  for  she  was  in  all 
things  a  most  unlovable  woman,  her  unsympathetic  nature 
and  icy  heart  showing  all  too  plainly  in  her  formal  manner 
and  cold,  impassive  face.  She  was  now  in  middle  life,  alert 
and  active,  and  with  eyes  of  steely  blue  that  chilled  those  on 
whom  they  rested  like  shadows  from  off  a  bank  of  snow.  For 
all  this,  it  is  proper  to  say  she  was  held  in  high  esteem  by  her 
neighbors,  and  in  such  awe,  too,  that  mothers  in  their  far-off, 
lonely  farmhouses  conjured  her  name  at  night  to  quiet  their 
45 


46  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

unruly  children.  This  as  it  was  told  me,  but  whether  truly  or 
not  I  do  not  know.  Of  my  father's  mishap  it  was  said  she 
cautioned  him  beforehand  against  risking  all  he  had,  and  on 
his  return  sought  to  put  new  hope  and  courage  in  his  heart, 
but  unavailingly.  After  the  disaster,  she  came  more  fre- 
quently to  our  house  than  had  been  her  wont,  my  father  and 
she  being  often  closeted  together  for  hours  at  a  time.  Of 
the  nature  of  their  conference  we  knew  nothing,  save  much 
anger  and  loud  talk  upon  her  part  at  times,  but  from  him  not 
a  word.  It  was  not  known  how  much  she  lost  by  his  failure, 
but  it  did  not  ^seem  to  depress  her  in  any  way,  for  now  she 
carried  on  her  farm  and  other  enterprises  with  greater  spirit 
than  before,  and  soon — so  it  was  talked  among  our  neighbors — 
she  had  more  than  made  good  her  losses  in  the  new  ventures 
she  had  undertaken.  Certain  it  is  that  she  began  again  to 
dicker  and  trade  as  when  my  father  acted  for  her,  and  now 
not  less  to  her  advantage  than  before. 

It  was  this  energetic  lady  that  had  arranged  for  me  to 
come  and  live  with  her,  and  who  was  there  to  dispute  anything 
she  had  set  her  heart  upon?  Certainly  no  one  in  Little  Sandy 
or  thereabout;  and  to  me,  being  but  a  youth  and  of  little 
account,  she  had  never  even  mentioned  the  subject.  Nor  did 
she  notice  me  any  more  now  than  before,  save  one  day  she 
drew  me  to  her  knee  and  stroked  my  hair  and  made  as  if  she 
would  say  some  pleasant  thing,  but  whether  because  of  the 
expression  of  my  face  or  its  resemblance  to  my  mother's 
I  know  not,  she  put  me  to  one  side  without  vouchsafing  so 
much  as  a  word.  Because  of  these  things  I  had  come  to  fear 
and  hate  her,  and  now  looked  forward  to  living  under  her  roof 
with  gloomy  discontent;  but  so  it  must  be,  and  I  neither 
thought  nor  planned  otherwise.  This  she  well  knew,  and 
being  a  woman  regardful  of  outlay,  had  said  it  was  a  needless 
expense  to  take  legal  steps  to  acquire  possession  of  my  body; 
for  who  was  there  that  would  question  her  right  to  such  pos- 
session? In  this  it  was  thought  she  acted  with  her  usual 
prudence,  for  no  one  so  much  as  hinted  at  any  other  arrange- 


Gilbert's  Flight  47 

ment.  Mr.  Job  Throckmorton,  my  mother's  brother  and  my 
only  relative  save  Aunt  Jane,  had  come  post-haste  across  the 
country  on  hearing  of  my  mother's  death,  and  to  him  I  had 
looked  with  some  hopefulness,  but  vainly,  it  appeared,  for  he 
made  no  sign.  Nor  ought  I  to  have  thought  it  likely,  for  he 
was  only  a  young  man,  and  had  his  way  to  make  in  the  world, 
and  so  could  not  be  expected  to  encumber  himself  with  so 
helpless  a  burden  as  I.  In  this  way,  and  as  I  say,  it  fell  out 
that  I  was  now  to  go  to  my  Aunt  Jane's  as  her  ward  and  to 
make  her  house  my  home. 

When  Mr.  Seymour  drove  up,  Constance  and  I  took  a  sad 
farewell  of  each  other,  for  henceforth  my  life  was  to  be  cir- 
cumscribed, no  one  could  tell  how  much.  Mr.  Seymour,  how- 
ever, took  no  notice  of  us  as  we  stood  beside  the  wagon 
peering  into  each  other's  faces,  but  busied  himself  arranging 
and  rearranging  the  robes  as  if  much  depended  upon  what  he 
was  doing.  When  at  last  they  were  fixed  to  his  liking  and 
Constance  was  seated  beside  him,  he  looked  down  upon  me, 
and  cried  out  in  a  cheerful  voice: 

"Now,  my  gay  young  spark,  have  you  decided  to  go  with 
us  or  stay  here  and  await  your  aunt?" 

"I'd  like  to  gc  with  you  if  I  could,"  I  answered,  after 
a  while,  not  understanding  what  he  meant. 

"Well,  climb  up,  then,  and  we  will  show  her  a  transfor- 
mation scene  she  will  remember  all  her  bright  and  sunny  life." 

Not  comprehending  him  in  any  way,  I  stood  still,  staring 
upward  into  his  smiling  face. 

"Come,  come,  my  son,  be  quick!  We  are  losing  time, 
and  every  moment  is  precious,"  he  went  on,  when  he  saw 
I  did  not  stir. 

"I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  I  answered.  "I  thought 
Aunt  Jane  was  to  come  for  me  at  sunset  and  that  I  was  to  go 
with  her." 

"She  was,  and  if  you  are  that  way  inclined,  all  right. 
I  will  not  interfere;  but  Mr.  Throckmorton  thought  you  were 
greatly  averse  to  going  to  her  home." 


48  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"I  am;  but  what  else  can  I  do,  unless  I  run  away?" 
I  asked. 

"That  is  it;  and  who  is  to  prevent?  I  thought  though 
that  your  Uncle  Job  had  told  you  about  his  plans?" 

"No;  but  will  you  help  me?"  I  asked,  excited  at  the  pros- 
pect of  thus  escaping  my  aunt." 

"Yes;  and  it  is  for  that  partly  that  I  am  here.  So  climb 
up  and  I  will  smuggle  you  into  town,  and  once  there,  hide  you 
where  even  your  Aunt  Jane's  bright  eyes  can  never  find  you. 
Afterward,  if  we  need  talk  about  that  now,  you  are  to  go  away 
with  your  Uncle  Job."  The  hope  thus  held  out  so  unexpect- 
edly filled  me  with  a  happiness  I  cannot  describe,  but  still 
I  did  not  move,  so  greatly  was  I  stirred  by  what  he  said. 
"We  have  planned  to  do  this  from  the  start,  Gilbert,"  Mr. 
Seymour  went  on,  seeing  me  hesitate.  "There  was  no  other 
way,  you  must  know,  for  your  aunt  would  have  fought  us 
through  all  the  courts  in  the  state  if  we  had  openly  defied  her. 
So  be  quick  if  you  like  the  plan,  and  we  will  be  off  before 
it  is  too  late." 

I  did  like  the  plan,  and  so  climbed  into  the  wagon  without 
further  loss  of  time.  When  we  had  gone  some  little  way  on 
the  road,  seeing  Aunt  Jane  coming  toward  us,  Mr.  Seymour 
pushed  me  down  into  the  bed  of  the  wagon,  drawing  the 
blanket  tightly  above  my  head.  In  a  moment,  however,  and 
as  if  in  comfort  of  my  seclusion,  Constance's  hand  crept 
beneath  the  robe,  and  feeling  about,  rested  at  last  warm 
and  loving  against  my  cheek.  Pressing  it  to  my  lips,  I  was 
content,  nor  wished,  if  I  could,  to  stir  from  where  I 
knelt. 

"Now,  Gilbert,  hold  your  breath,  for  here  is  your  loving 
aunt,"  Mr.  Seymour  exclaimed  a  moment  afterward,  pulling 
up  his  horses. 

"Good  evening,  Miss  Holmes,"  he  spoke  up,  politely,  as 
she  stopped  beside  our  wagon;  "I  hope  you  are  quite 
well  and  that  nothing  has  occurred  to  mar  the  happiness  of 
your  life." 


Gilbert's  Flight  491 

"Thank  you,  I  am  very  well,"  my  aunt  answered,  but  as. 
if  not  desiring  to  prolong  the  interview. 

"I  have  just  been  over  to  Wild  Plum  after  Constance,  who 
has  been  spending  the  day  with  your  nephew,"  he  went  on. 
"A  wild  lad  that,  Miss  Holmes." 

"Indeed,  it  was  very  kind  of  Constance,"  my  aunt 
answered,  but  not  as  if  at  all  pleased  with  his  familiarity. 

"I  suppose  you  are  on  your  way  to  get  the  young 
scape-grace.  He  told  us  you  thought  to  come  after  him," 
Mr.  Seymour  continued,  appearing  not  to  notice  her  man- 
ner. 

"Yes,  I  am  on  my  way  to  bring  my  nephew  home,"  she 
answered,  coldly. 

"Well,  I  hope  you  will  find  him  all  you  desire,  but  I  fear 
he  will  not  be  much  comfort  to  you." 

"I  know  of  no  reason  why  you  should  speak  in  that  way," 
she  replied,  with  some  heat. 

"Perhaps,  madam;  but  take  my  advice,  and  look  well  to- 
him,  for  if  I  ever  saw  a  roving  vagabond  he  is  one.  There, 
there,  Constance,  keep  still,  will  you?  The  lad's  slippery, 
Miss  Holmes,  slippery,  and  upon  my  soul  I  believe  he  had 
it  in  his  mind  to  decamp  when  we  came  away.  I  never  saw 
anything  stamped  in  a  lad's  face  more  plainly,"  Mr.  Seymour 
answered,  soberly. 

"You  are  too  severe,  Mr.  Seymour,"  Aunt  Jane  replied. 
"He  has  been  allowed'  to  do  as  he  pleased  since  his  father's 
mishap;  but  he  is  not  bad,  and  will  make  a  good  man,  you 
may  be  sure." 

"I  am  sure  you  will  make  a  man  of  him  if  it  is  possible, 
madam,  although  you  have  not  had  much  experience  with 
children,"  Mr.  Seymour  answered,  dryly.  "They  are 
a  troublesome  set,  Miss  Holmes,"  he  went  on,  "or  at  least 
I  have  found  it  so,  and  that  makes  it  the  more  surprising  to 
me  that  you  should  want  to  undertake  so  difficult  a  task." 

"Thank  you;  but  my  brother's  child  is  mine,  and  I  will 
do  by  him  as  he  would  have  done  had  he  lived;  but  I  will  not 


50  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

detain  you  longer,  Mr.  Seymour.  Good  night,"  Aunt  Jane 
answered,  curtly,  cutting  short  the  interview. 

"The  evening  is  likely  to  be  chilly,  madam,"  Mr.  Sey- 
mour replied,  pleasantly;  "can't  you  make  use  of  this  robe? 
We  have  another  in  the  bottom  of  the  wagon";  and  he  laid 
his  hand  on  the  blanket  that  hid  me,  as  if  he  would  gladly 
give  it  up,  but  my  aunt  answered  back  that  she  would  do  very 
well  with  the  one  she  had,  and  so  drove  away.  "A  determined 
woman  that,  Constance,  and  with  a  wonderful  head  for  affairs. 
There  is  not  a  man  in  the  county  half  as  smart,"  he  went  on, 
as  the  sound  of  my  aunt's  vehicle  was  lost  in  the  distance. 

When  we  were  again  on  our  way,  Constance  chided  her 
father  for  speaking  so  badly  of  me  and  for  saying  I  looked  as 
if  I  intended  to  run  away;  but  to  this  he  only  laughed,  and 
putting  his  horses  to  their  topmost  speed,  we  soon  reached 
Constance's  home.  On  the  way,  Mr.  Seymour  would  by  no 
means  allow  the  blanket  to  be  removed  from  about  my  head, 
lest,  he  said,  I  should  be  seen  by  some  passer-by  and  word 
conveyed  to  my  aunt.  When  at  last  I  was  free,  I  found 
myself  in  the  stable-yard  of  the  Dragon,  the  tavern  kept  by 
Mr.  Seymour  in  the  town  of  Little  Sandy.  Getting  down, 
Constance  took  my  hand  and  led  me  into  the  house,  and  here, 
ascending  to  the  floor  above,  she  opened  a  door,  and  when  we 
had  entered,  closed  it  and  drew  the  bolt.  Screening  the 
windows,  she  presently  lighted  a  candle,  and  doing  so,  stood 
revealed  to  me  beside  the  table,  a  smile,  half  mirthful,  half 
sad,  showing  in  her  beautiful  eyes. 

Thus  we  regarded  each  other,  I  thankful  for  my  escape, 
and  she  showing  plainly  how  happy  she  was  to  have  in  some 
way  aided  it.  As  we  thus  contemplated  each  other  a  strange 
thing  happened,  for  from  her  young  face,  as  I  looked,  the 
timid  dependence  of  youth  faded  away,  and  in  its  place  there 
came  the  look  and  presence  of  a  woman;  this  as  plainly  as 
the  dawn  is  merged  in  the  light  of  day.  Nor  could  I  ever 
afterward  think  of  her  otherwise.  There  was  a  change  in  me, 
too,  no  less  real.  For  as  I  stood  watching  her,  every  boyish 


Gilbert's  Flight  51 

feeling  fell  from  me  as  if  it  had  never  been,  and  from  that 
time  on  I  thought  and  felt  as  men  feel.  Thus  quickly  and 
surely  do  sorrow  and  loneliness  of  life  rob  our  youth  of  its 
sweet  prerogative.  Whether  she  was  conscious  of  any  change 
or  not  I  do  not  know,  but  henceforth  she  was  different,  as 
I  say.  In  that  moment,  too,  as  we  looked  into  each  other's 
eyes,  the  true  and  unquestioning  love  that  we  ever  afterward 
bore  each  other  stood  revealed.  This  I  know  for  myself, 
though  the  truth  of  it  as  regards  her  I  was  not  conscious  of 
at  the  time,  not  being  wise  in  such  matters;  but  while  we 
stood  thus,  her  eyes  fell  before  mine  and  her  face  flushed,  and 
all  at  once  she  became  possessed  of  a  shyness  not  like  her  at 
all.  So  that  instead  of  coming  to  me  as  she  had  done  before, 
she  busied  herself  about  the  room,  lighting  first  one  candle 
and  then  another,  until  the  whole  apartment  was  ablaze. 
This,  too,  with  such  show  of  embarrassment  that  I  stood  gaz- 
ing in  wonder,  not  understanding  the  one  nor  the  other. 
When  there  were  no  more  candles  to  light  and  she  had 
regained  some  control  of  herself,  she  turned  to  me,  saying 
simply: 

"This  is  your  room,  Gilbert." 

"It's  a  fine  one,  and  I  hope  it  will  be  a  long  time  before 
I  shall  have  to  give  it  up,"  I  answered,  the  thought  of  leaving 
sending  a  chill  to  my  heart. 

"Maybe  you  will  not  have  to  go  at  all;  or  if  you  do,  not 
far,"  she  answered,  with  a  reassuring  smile. 

"Uncle  Job  lives  a  great  way  off,  if  I'm  to  go  with  him," 
I  answered,  not  much  comforted. 

"Perhaps  your  aunt  will  give  you  up,  now  she  sees  you  do 
not  care  to  live  with  her;  then  you  can  go  and  come  as  you 
please,"  she  replied,  her  face  lighting  up  as  if  she  thought  it 
might  be  so. 

"No,  Constance,  aunt  will  never  do  that.  She  never  gave 
up  anything  on  which  she  had  set  her  heart,"  I  answered; 
but  even  as  I  spoke  my  feelings  changed,  and  so  I  went  on 
without  stopping:  "I'll  not  go  with  Uncle  Job,  but  will  stay 


52  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

here.  Why  not?  Aunt  Jane's  never  harmed  me";  and  on 
the  moment  all  my  fear  and  hatred  of  her  vanished,  so  averse 
was  I  to  being  separated  from  the  dear  girl  before  me.  Hear- 
ing me,  Constance  smiled  her  approval,  as  if  she  too  thought 
that  the  best  way,  and  presently,  looking  about,  asked: 

"How  do  you  like  your  room,  Gilbert?  I  hope  it  will 
please  you." 

"I  never  saw  anything  half  so  fine  before,"  I  answered,, 
staring  about  me. 

"Your  father  and  mother  always  occupied  it  when  in 
town,  and  your  mother  never  tired  of  the  pictures  and  the 
laces  about  the  windows  and  bed." 

"They're  beautiful,  but  where  did  all  these  things  come 
from?"  I  asked,  examining  the  furniture  of  the  room  more 
carefully. 

"Papa  and  mamma  brought  them  from  England  when  they 
came  to  this  country,"  she  answered. 

I  recall  all  this  now,  and  vividly,  because  of  the  part  the 
room  and  its  furnishings  afterward  played  in  my  life,  and  this 
under  circumstances  so  peculiar  that  each  article  became  at 
last  fixed  in  my  mind  as  if  its  image  were  engraven  there. 

Of  the  many  things  the  apartment  contained,  not  the  least 
wonderful  was  the  high  canopied  bedstead,  with  its  rare  lace, 
about  which  Constance  had  spoken.  Scattered  about  the 
room  were  many  chairs,  some  upright,  some  reclining,  but  all 
curiously  carved  and  odd  and  of  old  fashion.  In  the  center 
of  the  apartment  a  great  table  stood,  and  from  its  fat  sides 
and  legs  lions  and  tigers  looked  out  as  if  ready  to  spring  upon 
you,  so  real  were  they  in  every  particular.  At  one  end  of  the 
room  brass  andirons,  with  tops  like  tigers'  heads,  adorned 
the  fireplace,  and  at  the  side  a  shovel  and  tongs  of  similar 
pattern.  The  walls  of  the  room  were  tinted,  and  on  these 
pictures  hung,  and  among  them  one  of  George  III.  Above 
this,  and  as  if  in  guardianship,  there  was  a  portrait  of  the 
younger  Pitt,  but  who  he  was  I  did  not  then  know,  any  more 
than  of  the  other.  The  room  was  called  the  Treasury,  and 


Gilbert's  Flight  53 

in  it  and  nowhere  else,  I  afterward  came  to  know,  Mr.  Sey- 
mour lived  again  the  life  of  his  youth.  Here  he  preserved  all 
the  mementos  of  his  young  wife  and  of  the  land  and  home 
they  had  left  beyond  the  sea.  Here,  after  her  death,  it  was 
said  he  would  shut  himself  up  for  days  together,  from  all  save 
Constance,  until,  the  mood  passing,  he  would  emerge  again, 
the  quiet,  unobtrusive  man  the  world  knew. 

Why  Mr.  Seymour  left  England  was  not  known,  but  Con- 
stance thought  it  had  in  some  way  to  do  with  his  marriage  to 
her  mother,  a  delicate  woman,  who  proved  not  strong  enough 
to  withstand  the  hardships  of  the  new  country,  and  so 
sickened  and  died.  Nor  was  it  known  why  Mr.  Seymour  had 
chosen  to  keep  a  tavern  in  preference  to  some  calling  of 
greater  dignity,  unless,  all  occupations  being  alike  to  him,  he 
had  believed  this  not  so  difficult  as  the  others.  Whatever 
may  have  been  the  reason,  certain  it  was  he  spared  no  effort 
to  do  acceptably  what  he  had  undertaken,  and  thus  it  came 
about  that  his  hostelry  was  held  in  high  esteem  throughout 
the  country  by  all  who  had  occasion  to  patronize  places  of 
this  character.  He  called  the  tavern — for  so  such  places  were 
designated  in  the  new  country — the  Dragon,  but  whether 
from  some  early  association  or  because  he  in  secret  reprobated 
the  place,  I  do  not  know.  The  Dragon's  sign  hung  in  the 
open  street,  and  had  for  its  background  a  delicate  peacock 
green,  designed  to  convey  the  idea  of  a  soft,  voluptuous  sea. 
On  the  edge  of  this  expanse  a  fierce  dragon  stood  upreared 
with  open  mouth  and  protruding  tongue.  Of  St.  George, 
however,  there  was  neither  sign  nor  hint.  This  strange 
omission,  which  the  knowing  had  discerned,  it  was  whispered 
was  intentional  on  Mr.  Seymour's  part  and  out  of  regard  for 
the  sentiment  of  the  country,  which  at  that  time  was  by  no 
means  friendly  to  Great  Britain  or  her  patron  saint. 

Mr.  Seymour  had  many  ways  out  of  the  ordinary,  and 
among  them  an  odd  habit,  it  was  thought,  of  taking  Constance 
to  the  woods  on  pleasant  days,  where  they  would  wander 
about,  hand  in  hand,  gathering  leaves  and  flowers.  Or  if 


54  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

a  shrub  pleased  them,  they  would  pluck  it  up  by  the  roots 
and  transplant  it  to  the  little  garden  she  tended  in  the  yard 
beside  the  Dragon.  This  fondness  of  Mr.  Seymour  for 
immaterial  things,  and  the  time  he  gave  them,  was  much  com- 
mented upon  by  the  busy  community  in  and  about  Little 
Sandy,  and  was  thought  by  many  to  seriously  cripple  his  busi- 
ness, if  not  foretell  its  final  ruin. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

GILBERTS   ENCOUNTER   WITH   THE   TIMBER-WOLF 

When  we  had  examined  all  the  beautiful  things  the  room 
contained,  or  made  pretense  of  doing  so — for  I  was  ever  inter- 
ested in  Constance  to  the  exclusion  of  other  matters — she 
pointed  with  a  show  of  pride  to  the  battered  head  of  an  animal 
fastened  above  the  door  by  which  we  had  entered,  exclaiming: 

"See,  Gilbert,  where  papa's  put  the  horrid  thing!  I  can 
never  look  at  it  without  a  shudder." 

"It's  ugly  enough,  I'm  sure,"  I  answered;  "but  what 
is  it?" 

"Surely  you  ought  to  know,  if  any  one,"  she  answered, 
taking  hold  of  my  hand  and  leading  me  close  to  the  object. 

"It's  so  cut  up  one  can't  tell  whether  it's  the  head  of  a  pig 
or  a  panther,"  I  answered. 

"It's  neither;  but  you're  only  making  believe,  Gilbert?" 

"No;  but  I  never  saw  anything  half  so  ugly." 

"Oh,  fie!  how  stupid  you  are,  or  inake  out  to  be." 

"Well,  what  is  it?  I  can't  guess,"  I  answered,  but  in  no 
hurry  to  have  her  tell  me,  so  sweet  was  her  voice  and  so 
entrancing  her  contention. 

"Well,  I've  a  good  mind  not  to  tell  you,  but  it's  the  head 
of  the  wolf  you  killed.  Papa  had  it  mounted  just  as  it  was 
brought  from  Wild  Plum;  and  it  grows  more  ugly  every  day, 
I  think,"  she  answered,  scowling  at  the  hideous  thing. 

"I'd  never  have  known  it,  it's  so  shrunken  and  wrinkled," 
I  answe.red,  gazing  at  the  object  with  new  interest. 

"Then  you  remember,  do  you?"  she  asked,  coming  close 
to  my  side,  as  if  it  were  still  alive. 

Yes,  I  remembered  the  wolf  well  enough,  but  most  because 
55 


56  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

it  concerned  Constance,  and  had,  besides,  so  much  to  do  with 
her  father's  kindness  to  me  then  and  always.  On  this  account 
it  is  proper  I  should  tell  you  the  story;  and  though  it  may 
seem  out  of  the  ordinary  and  improbable  now,  it  was  not  so 
regarded  at  the  time.  For  you  must  know  that  in  the  early 
days  the  panther  and  bear  and  many  other  savage  animals 
made  their  homes  undisturbed  in  the  depths  of  the  great  for- 
ests of  Illinois,  and  among  the  first  recollections  of  my  child- 
hood were  the  cries,  sometimes  fierce,  but  more  often  dole- 
ful, of  the  wolves  about  our  home.  Our  situation  indeed  in 
respect  to  such  visits  was  peculiar,  for  from  the  plain  that  lay 
on  one  side  there  came  the  gray  or  prairie  wolf,  and  from  the 
forest  opposite,  his  fierce  brother,  the  black  or  timber  wolf. 
The  first  was  a  cowardly  brute,  hardly  above  a  chicken  in 
•courage,  and  given  to  pilfering  about  the  stables  and  hen- 
houses, though  sometimes  venturing  as  far  as  the  kitchen  if 
there  was  anything  it  could  steal.  The  timber-wolf  was 
larger,  and  when  hungry  would  attack  animals  ten  times  its 
size.  Indeed,  when  famished,  it  did  not  fear  man,  and  in  this 
way  numbers  of  the  early  settlers  lost  their  lives.  In  the 
summer  and  fall,  when  food  was  plentiful,  it  rarely  visited  us, 
but  in  the  late  winter  its  cries  at  night  were  so  common  as 
hardly  to  attract  attention. 

Thus  it  was  one  day  in  the  early  spring,  when  the  grasses 
were  fairly  started  and  the  trees  beginning  to  sprout,  or  only 
the  laggards  slept,  as  loth  to  waken  now  as  they  were  quick 
to  go  to  sleep  in  the  early  autumn.  The  day  being  warm  and 
fair,  Constance  and  I  had  ventured  into  the  great  forest,  not 
far,  indeed,  but  apart,  the  foliage  shutting  us  off  from  view. 
At  such  times  the  thing  that  delighted  her  most  was  to  run 
in  and  out  among  the  trees,  as  children  from  the  city  always 
take  pleasure  in  doing  when  visiting  the  country.  In  this  way 
•we  had  become  separated  for  a  moment,  when  suddenly  there 
came  to  me  from  out  the  still  woods  a  quick  and  agonizing 
•cry.  It  was  Constance's  voice,  and  something  to  chill  one's 
blood.  Nor  has  a  long  life  sufficed  to  still  its  vibrations,  and 


Gilbert's  Encounter  with  the  Timber-Wolf        57 

often  in  the  night  it  awakens  me  now,  with  the  same  dread  as 
when  I  heard  it  in  that  afternoon  in  my  far-off  youth.  Start- 
ing up  in  affright,  I  let  fall  the  basket  I  carried,  but  retained 
in  some  unconscious  way  the  small  ax  I  had  in  my  hand,  my 
father's  gift,  and  this  fortunately,  as  it  afterward  turned  out. 
Listening,  and  the  cry  being  repeated,  I  hastened  in  the  direc- 
tion whence  it  came,  but  as  I  advanced  it  receded,  faster  and 
faster,  until  after  a  little  while  it  came  to  me  only  plaintively, 
and  then  not  at  all.  Hurrying  forward,  I  after  a  time  reached 
an  opening  in  the  forest,  and  doing  so  beheld  on  the  opposite 
side  a  huge  wolf,  gaunt  with  hunger,  carrying  Constance  in 
his  mouth,  with  high  uplifted  head,  as  if  her  weight  were 
nothing.  Nor  was  it  much  to  speak  of,  for  she  was  but  a  child, 
and  delicate  as  the  lilies  that  bobbed  and  curtsied  in  the 
black  pond  on  the  edge  of  the  great  woods.  At  sight  of  the 
wolf  I  stopped,  so  benumbed  with  fear  that  I  could  neither 
move  nor  cry  aloud,  and  thus  I  stood  with  open  mouth,  with- 
out any  sense  whatever,  doing  nothing.  What  could  I  do? 
The  house  was  now  far  away,  and  only  women  there,  and  if 
I  sought  them  it  would  be  too  late.  While  thus  unable  to 
think  or  act,  I  caught  sight  of  the  weapon  I  held,  and  with 
it  courage  returned  to  my  heart — not  much,  to  be  sure,  but 
enough.  Something  might  be  done  with  so  good  a  weapon, 
and  with  the  thought  I  hastened  across  the  opening  and 
plunged  into  the  forest,  following  the  direction  the  wolf  had 
taken.  After  running  some  distance  without  response  to  my 
cries  or  finding  any  clew  to  guide  me,  I  stopped  again,  filled 
anew  with  fear  and  dreadful  forebodings.  Surely  she  was  lost, 
and  her  life  a  prey  to  the  savage  beast  that  bore  her  away. 
At  the  thought,  taking  fresh  courage,  I  plunged  ahead,  and 
now  into  the  very  heart  of  the  forest,  thinking  this  the  direc- 
tion thre  animal  would  be  most  like  to  take.  Thus  minutes 
like  hours  passed,  as  I  struggled  forward  through  the  dense 
undergrowth,  but  neither  hearing  nor  seeing  aught  of  her 
I  sought.  Worn  out  at  last,  I  sank  down  in  despair,  tears 
blinding  my  eyes.  Beyond,  the  great  forest  stretched  away 


58  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

unbroken  to  the  far  west,  receding  ever  to  lower  and  lower 
levels,  there  to  meet  noiseless,  half-hidden  creeks  or  black, 
impassable  swamps.  Throughout  its  great  expanse,  and  as 
a  cover  for  the  wild  beasts  that  frequented  its  depths,  dense 
undergrowth  grew,  and  resplendent  as  in  a  garden.  So  much 
I  knew  from  my  father,  who  had  penetrated  its  vast  solitudes, 
and  at  another  time  I  should  have  been  stirred  by  its  solemn 
splendor;  but  now  it  had  neither  beauty  nor  variety,  revealing 
only  darkness  and  terror,  wherein  a  hideous  tragedy  lay  con- 
cealed. Such  were  my  thoughts  as,  after  some  moments'  rest- 
ing to  gain  new  breath,  I  struggled  to  my  feet  and  started 
afresh,  but  now  without  any  purpose  other  than  to  follow 
aimlessly  on.  Going  forward  in  this  way,  I  came  at  last  upon 
an  opening  in  the  trees,  and  there,  a  few  feet  off,  and  in  the 
interval  of  the  forest,  I  beheld  the  wolf,  with  tongue  out- 
stretched and  bloodshot  eyes,  standing  at  bay.  As  I  came 
into  the  cleared  space,  the  animal  raised  himself  erect  and 
turned  his  fierce  countenance  on  me  as  if  inviting  attack. 
This  I  did  not  think  to  offer,  but  losing  all  consciousness, 
I  rushed  forward,  crying,  "Constance!  Constance!"  Thus 
I  reached  the  animal,  and  it  not  moving,  I  raised  my  weapon 
and  struck  it  full  in  the  face.  The  blow  was  not  hard,  for 
I  was  weak  and  dead  with  fear;  but  the  brute  not  attacking 
me  in  return,  and  blood  following  the  stroke,  I  struck  again 
and  again,  sometimes  missing  altogether,  but  more  often  hit- 
ting my  mark.  Whether  the  animal  was  exhausted  by  its  long 
flight,  or  surprised  into  fear  by  my  quick  attack,  I  do  not 
know,  but  that  it  was  dazed  I  must  believe,  for  it  made  no 
effort  to  attack  me,  but  stood  sullenly  before  Constance's 
body,  neither  advancing  nor  receding.  Finally,  my  blows 
growing  weak,  and  the  animal  making  as  if  it  would  spring 
upon  me,  I  struck  it  again,  and  now  with  the  strength  of  both 
my  arms,  full  in  the  face.  At  this,  as  if  grievously  hurt,  or 
else  losing  all  courage,  it  gave  a  mournful  cry,  and  turning, 
darted  into  the  forest.  Seeing  this,  and  my  strength  being 


Gilbert's  Encounter  with  the  Timber-Wolf        59 

gone  and  my  heart  numb  with  fear,  I  fell  forward  unconscious 
beside  Constance's  prostrate  body. 

When  I  came  to,  my  head  was  pillowed  in  her  lap  and  she 
was  stroking  my  hair,  kissing  me  the  while  as  if  to  bring  back 
the  color  to  my  face,  calling,  now  in  a  fever  of  fright  and  then 
again  plaintively  and  coaxingly: 

"Gilbert!     Gilbert!     My  Gilbert!" 

Feeling  her  soft  breath  on  my  face,  I  feigned  unconscious- 
ness, loth  to  move;  and  thus  I  lay  for  a  while,  not  stirring, 
nor  conscious  of  any  reason  why  I  should.  Then  the  thought 
of  the  wolf  came  back  to  me,  and  I  sprang  up,  terror-stricken 
lest  the  animal  should  return,  alone  or  with  its  fellows,  as  these 
fierce  brutes  were  sometimes  known  to  do  when  crazed  with 
hunger. 

"Quick,  Constance!  We  must  be  off  before  the  brute 
returns,"  I  cried,  taking  hold  of  both  her  hands.  To  my 
appeal,  however,  she  returned  no  answer,  but  sat  still,  her 
face,  torn  and  bleeding,  turned  imploringly  toward  mine. 
"You're  hurt!"  I  exclaimed,  filled  with  fear;  "but  come! 
I  can  carry  you,  and  it's  not  far";  and  stooping  I  raised  her 
in  my  arms  as  easily  as  I  would  a  child. 

"No,  I'm  not  hurt,  Gilbert,"  she  answered,  trembling  and 
clinging  about  my  neck;  "but  I  thought  you  were  dead,  and 
your  springing  up  frightened  me  as  much  as  the  presence  of 
the  wolf." 

"Are  you  sure  you're  not  hurt  in  any  way?"  I  asked,  look- 
ing at  her  scared  face  and  torn  garments,  not  believing  she 
could  have  got  off  so  earily. 

"Yes — and  you?"  she  answered,  peering  into  my  face. 

"I'm  all  right;  but  how  could  you  have  escaped  so  easily?" 
I  asked,  in  wonder. 

"I  don't  know,  for  I  knew  nothing  after  the  first  moment 
till  I  found  you  lying  beside  me,"  she  answered,  disengaging 
herself  from  my  arms. 

"See  where  the  brute  held  you,"   I  answered,  pointing 


6p  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

with  a  shaking  hand  to  the  marks  of  its  teeth  in  the  heavy 
woolen  frock  she  wore. 

"If  my  dress  had  been  lighter,  he  might  not  have  been 
able  to  carry  me  off  at  all,"  she  answered.  "But  where  is 
the  beast,  Gilbert?  And  see,  you  are  covered  with  blood, 
too!" 

"Come!  We  must  leave  here  as  quickly  as  we  can.  The 
wolf  didn't  have  any  more  courage  than  a  sheep,  and  ran 
away;  but  he  may  come  back  with  the  pack,  if  they're  near  by," 
I  answered,  looking  about  uneasily. 

"How  can  you  find  the  way,  Gilbert?  No  one  has  ever 
been  so  far  as  this  before,  I  know,"  she  replied,  scanning  the 
dark  trees  as  we  hurried  forward. 

"It's  no  great  distance,  and  I  could  find  my  way  blind- 
folded," I  answered,  confidently;  and  so,  guided  by  the  sun, 
and  this  happily,  we  at  last  reached  the  edge  of  the  forest  just 
as  the  night  was  coming  on.  Here  my  mother,  who  had 
become  alarmed  at  our  long  absence,  was  awaiting  us,  and  as 
we  came  into  view,  she  ran  forward,  crying: 

"My  children!  My  children!  How  could  you  frighten 
me  so!"  When,  however,  she  had  come  near  to  where  we 
were,  and  saw  the  blood  on  my  garments,  she  stopped  and 
came  nigh  to  falling,  but  recovering  herself,  hurried  forward 
and  clasped  me  in  her  arms,  exclaiming:  "My  son!  my  son! 
What  dreadful  thing  has  happened  to  you?" 

Nor  would  she  move  or  release  me  till  we  had  told  her  the 
story  from  beginning  to  end.  Then,  kissing  us,  she  put  her 
arms  about  our  bodies  and  led  us  to  the  house,  and  there  kept 
us  by  her  side  until  my  father  came  home  and  heard  the  story. 
He,  more  used  to  danger,  embraced 'us  tenderly,  and  not 
waiting  for  a  fresh  horse  to  be  saddled,  mounted  the  one  he 
had,  and  taking  Constance  in  his  arms,  carried  her  to  her 
home  in  town.  The  next  day  Mr.  Seymour  came  out  to  Wild 
Plum  with  Constance,  and  together  we  all  visited  the  spot 
where  the  encounter  had  taken  place;  but  my  father,  following 
the  animal's  trail  by  its  blood,  presently  gave  a  cry,  and  we, 


Gilbert's  Encounter  with  the  Timber-Wolf        61 

running  forward,  found  him  standing  over  the  wolf,  which  lay 
dead  on  the  ground. 

That  is  the  story,  and  it  was  the  battered  head  of  the 
animal,  that  Mr.  Seymour  because  of  some  sentiment  had 
preserved,  that  now  stared  at  us  from  above  the  chamber  door. 

NOTE.— Mr.  Gilbert  Holmes,  in  reviewing  this  part  of  his  life, 
thought,  for  some  reason,  that  the  story  of  the  timber-wolf  should  be 
omitted;  but  to  this  Mrs.  Holmes  would  by  no  means  listen,  treasur- 
ing every  word  as  if  it  were  Gilbert  himself  and  a  part  of  her  life. 
Because  of  this  I  have  included  it  as  it  was  told  me,  and  partly,  too, 
because  it  explains  Mr.  Seymour's  love  for  Gilbert  as  a  youth  and  the 
great  confidence  he  had  in  him  always.  It  also  illustrates  Gilbert's 
courage,  which  was  so  simple  and  found  expression  so  naturally  when 
anything  called  it  forth  that  he  was  never  conscious  he  possessed  it,  but 
always  spoke  of  the  fear  that  oppressed  him  in  the  emergencies  of  life, 
though  it  was  not  fear  at  all,  it  was  apparent,  but  merely  the  agitation  of 
a  sensitive  nature.  For  of  all  men,  none  ever  lived  who  were  more 
brave  than  he  ;  and  it  was  said  of  him,  and  truly,  as  a  general  of  cavalry 
in  our  great  war,  that  no  leader  pressed  forward  with  such  ardor  in  the 
charge,  and  similarly  it  was  told,  none  gazed  upon  the  empty  saddles 
after  the  conflict  was  over  with  so  sorrowful  and  pitying  a  heart.— THE 
AUTHOR. 


CHAPTER   IX 

DRIFTWOOD   FROM   THE   THAMES   BATTLEFIELD 

While  Constance  and  I  stood  with  clasped  hands  gazing  at 
the  wolf's  head,  Mr.  Seymour  entered  the  room,  followed  by 
Uncle  Job.  At  sight  of  the  latter  my  heart  went  out  to  him 
with  tender  emotion,  and  I  ran  and  embraced  him  as  I  would 
a  dear  friend. 

"I  hope  you  find  yourself  in  good  spirits,  and  none  the 
worse  for  what  has  happened?"  he  inquired,  affectionately, 
taking  my  hands  in  his  and  kissing  me. 

"Gilbert's  in  fine  spirits,"  Constance  spoke  up,  looking  at 
me  as  a  mother  might  on  a  petted  child. 

"Yes,  and  I  can't  thank  you  enough  for  what  you've  done, 
uncle,"  I  answered. 

"Don't  talk  that  way,  child,  for  you  owe  me  nothing,"  he 
replied.  "I  was  sorry  to  leave  you  in  doubt  so  long,  but 
there  was  no  other  way." 

"It  didn't  matter;  but  I'm  afraid  I'll  be  a  great  burden  to 
you,"  I  answered,  remembering  what  I  had  thought  in  regard 
to  this. 

"Nonsense!  Only  I'm  not  sure  but  you  would  be  better 
with  your  Aunt  Jane  than  with  me;  but  your  mother  would 
approve  what  I  am  doing  if  she  were  alive,  and  that  is  what 
governs  me,"  he  answered. 

"I'm  sure  she  would,"  I  replied,  feeling  that  he  spoke  the 
truth. 

"Then  you  are  pleased?"  he  asked,  smiling,  as  if  com- 
forted by  my  answer. 

"Yes,  but  I  fear  Aunt  Jane  will  be  very  unhappy  when 
she  finds  I  have  gone  without  money  or  clothing.  Wouldn't 
62 


Driftwood  from  the  Thames  Battlefield  63 

it  be  right  to  send  her  word  that  no  harm  will  come  to  me?" 
I  asked,  a  feeling  of  remorse  coming  over  me  that  I  had  shown 
her  so  little  respect. 

"She  will  not  fret  nor  lose  an  hour's  sleep  over  you,  my 
boy,"  Uncle  Job  replied.  "Her  heart  will  close  up  like  an 
oyster  when  she  finds  you  are  gone;  but  when  we  are  well  out 
of  the  country  we  will  let  her  know.  She  will  never  forgive 
you,  but  it  doesn't  matter,  for  she  was  never  friendly  to  our 
family,  anyway." 

"Mother  used  to  say  we  didn't  understand  her,"  I  answered, 
remembering  her  words. 

"Your  mother  found  excuses  for  every  one,  so  tender  was 
her  heart;  and  your  Aunt  Jane  is  not  to  be  blamed  if  she  is 
ice  instead  of  flesh  and  blood,"  he  replied. 

"Please,  Job,  leave  Aunt  Jane  in  the  quietude  of  her  farm 
for  a  while.  The  die  is  cast,  and  nothing  can  change  it  now," 
Mr.  Seymour  broke  in,  good-naturedly.  "Come,  Constance, 
let  us  have  dinner  served  here,  where  we  can  have  the  evening 
to  ourselves — and  make  haste,  for  we  are  starving,"  he  added, 
putting  his  arm  about  her  as  she  turned  to  leave  the  room. 

At  the  dinner  which  followed,  it  was  my  great  good  fortune 
to  make  a  new  acquaintance,  and  one  I  had  occasion  to  prize 
more  and  more  as  the  years  went  by.  This  in  the  person  of 
Constance's  companion  and  teacher,  Setti,  a  young  person 
who  had  lately  come  to  make  one  of  Mr.  Seymour's  family; 
and  strangely  enough  for  such  companionship,  and  improbable 
you  will  say,  she  was  of  pure  Indian  blood.  No  one,  however, 
would  have  known  this,  for  except  that  her  hair  and  eyes  were 
black  and  her  complexion  olive  rather  than  dark,  she  was  in 
no  wise  different  from  those  about  her.  She  was  above  medi- 
um height,  with  graceful  figure,  and  soft,  shy  manners  that 
were  tculy  captivating,  and  in  regard  to  this  last  there  was  no 
difference  of  opinion.  Her  history,  while  it  would  be  strange 
now  and  romantic  in  the  extreme,  was  not  thought  peculiar  at 
the  time  of  which  I  speak.  For  you  must  know  she  was  found 
when  a  child,  playing  beside  the  body  of  her  dead  mother  on 


64  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

the  Thames  battlefield,  where  Tecumseh  fell,  a  little  way 
across  the  Canadian  border.  The  officer  who  thus  discovered 
her  took  her  to  his  home  and  educated  her,  treating  her  in  all 
things  as  his  child.  This  until  some  months  back,  when,  his 
family  being  broken  up  by  one  of  the  dreadful  scourges  of 
sickness  common  in  the  new  country,  Mr.  Seymour  had  asked 
her  to  become  the  companion  and  instructor  of  Constance. 

While  nothing  was  known  of  Setti's  parentage,  it  was 
thought  she  was  the  daughter  of  some  great  chief,  from  the 
ornaments  clasped  about  her  neck,  and  which  she  still  wore. 
Of  these,  one  was  a  cross  of  mixed  gold  and  silver,  sunk  in  an 
oval  frame  of  copper  and  lead,  the  handiwork  of  some  Indian 
craftsman,  who,  it  was  apparent,  had  only  rude  tools  and 
molten  metals  with  which  to  work.  Another  ornament,  and 
one  that  struck  you  strangely,  was  a  serpent,  hammered  out 
of  pure  iron  and  inlaid  with  silver;  but  of  its  significance 
nothing  was  known.  Afterward,  when  I  came  to  know  this 
sweet  creature  as  one  does  a  sister  or  cherished  friend, 
I  could  never  discover  anything  to  indicate  her  savage  ances- 
try, save,  perhaps,  a  reticence  of  speech  unusual  in  attractive 
women — if  I  except,  perhaps,  a  startled  look  she  sometimes 
wore  when  coming  suddenly  upon  any  new  or  remarkable 
experience  in  life.  This  peculiarity,  however,  we  see  in  peo- 
ple of  our  own  blood,  and  so  it  should  not  have  been  thought 
strange  in  her.  In  all  other  respects  there  was  nothing  about 
her  to  mark  the  abrupt  step  from  savagery  to  civilized  life. 
For  her  intelligence  was  in  all  things  of  the  order  and  delicacy 
that  characterizes  refined  women.  Her  beauty  and  sweetness 
of  disposition,  too,  were  such  as  to  confirm  the  romantic 
notions  I  have  ever  held  respecting  the  Indian  character;  and 
it  was  no  doubt  due  to  her  and  other  kindly  influences  that 
I  was  first  led  to  believe  our  treatment  of  the  Indian  tribes 
had  been  somewhat1  lacking  in  wisdom  and  humanity.  Mr. 
Seymour  was  also  of  this  opinion,  and  never  lost  an  oppor- 
tunity to  express  his  views  on  the  subject,  and  with  consider- 
able abruptness. 


Driftwood  from  the  Thames  Battlefield  65 

"Setti's  affectionate  nature  and  sweetness  of  temper,"  he 
,  was  in  the  habit  of  saying  to  his  friends  when  the  subject  was 
brought  up,  "are  natural  to  her — God's  gifts;  and  had  a  wiser 
and  more  tolerant  course  been  followed  by  our  government, 
all  the  Indian  tribes  of  America  would  have  been  led  to  accept 
civilization,  as  she  has  been — not  grudgingly,  but  with  their 
whole  heart  and  soul.  Either  that,  or  they  should  have  been 
left  apart  to  follow  the  processes  every  race  has  passed  through 
in  its  progress  from  savagery.  Instead,  we  have  the  sad  sight 
of  great  Indian  nations  debauched  and  hunted  down  and 
destroyed,  as  if  they  were  a  plague  upon  the  earth.  Surely, 
they  were  worthy  of  something  better,  and  should  have  been 
preserved  to  mark  for  all  time  the  magnificent  men  and  women 
who  made  up  our  native  Indian  population.  To  do  this  we 
would  have  had  to  recognize  their  right  to  live  and  multiply 
unmolested,  as  we  do  others  more  fortunate  in  color  and 
birth;  or  failing  in  that,  have  subjected  them  to  gentle  treat- 
ment and  wise  laws.  Surely  they  were  worthy  such  care  and 
consideration.  Homer's  Greeks,  to  make  a  point  of  it,  were 
no  better,  nor  scarcely  more  civilized,  than  the  Sacs  and  Foxes 
we  have  but  just  driven  like  wolves  beyond  the  confines  of 
civilization  after  robbing  them  of  their  lands  and  villages." 

Mr.  Seymour's  views,  and  others  like  them,  however  noble 
and  humane,  were  not  regarded  by  the  community  as  meriting 
attention  except  in  a  sentimental  way,  one  and  all  being  ani- 
mated by  a  desire  to  dispossess  the  Indians  of  their  lands  as 
quickly  as  possible,  and  without  reference  to  their  rights  or 
any  feeling  of  humanity  whatever.  However,  he  was  not  the 
less  strenuous  in  giving  them  utterance,  even  to  the  extent  of 
offending  his  friends  and  patrons. 

"Bad  faith  and  cruel  harassment  of  the  Indian  tribes  on 
their  lonely  reservations,"  he  would  say,  "have  characterized 
our  government's  policy  from  the  first,  and  forms,  indeefi,  so 
gross  a  crime  that  coming  ages  will  reprobate  it  wherever  men 
love  justice  and  hate  swinish  greed.  It  will  not  in  any  way 
excuse  us  that  we  are  hungry  for  the  property  of  our  neigh- 


66  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

bors,  and  because  of  this  agree  to  treat  the  Indian  as  an 
inferior  being.  He  is  nothing  of  the  kind,  for  God  never 
made  more  perfect  men  physically,  and  the  mind  conforms 
in  all  things  to  the  body.  It  is  nature's  law.  Nor  does  it 
excuse  our  acts,  however  much  our  passions  may  be  aroused, 
that  the  Indian  in  his  savage  state  kills  and  mutilates  his  enemy. 
Achilles,  the  ideal  Greek,  circling  the  walls  of  ancient  Troy 
with  Hector's  body  chained  to  his  chariot,  has  never  been 
surpassed  in  cruelty  and  ignoble  pride  in  Indian  annals.  The 
comparison  is  still  more  odious  when  we  think  of  the  heca- 
tombs of  harmless  men  the  Homeric  Greeks  sacrificed  to  the 
manes  of  their  honored  dead.  The  Indian's  heaven  is  lighted 
by  no  such  baleful  fires.  Nor  have  we  any  reason  to  suppose 
the  red  man  more  backward  than  the  Greek,  for  he  is  greater 
in  courage  and  much  superior  to  him  in  physical  strength  and 
patient  endurance." 

"If  Achilles  lived  in  our  day,"  Uncle  Job  once  answered, 
"we  would  not  lose  an  hour  in  appropriating  his  incomparable 
horses  and  sending  him  to  the  wilds  of  Iowa  to  join  that  other 
savage,  Black  Hawk,  saying  to  ourselves  the  while  that  we 
were  well  rid  of  a  nuisance  and  disturber  of  the  peace.  Too 
much  can't  be  expected,  though,  of  our  young  country,  Henry. 
It  is  too  full  of  the  bumptious  exuberance  of  animal  life. 
Children  in  experience  make  very  poor  governors;  they  are 
too  headstrong  and  intolerant;  but  we  will  do  better  later  on. 
Only  mature  nations,  like  mature  men,  know  how  to  govern 
well.  It's  a  pity,  but  so  it  is,  and  will  be  always,  and  the 
weak  and  dependent  must  suffer  whenever  contrary  conditions 
exist." 

Thus  tender-hearted  men  declaimed  in  the  years  that  are 
gone,  but  fruitlessly.  These  thoughts,  however  out  of  place, 
recur  to  me  now  and  struggle  for  utterance  when  my  mind 
reverts  to  the  gentle  being  who  came  into  my  life  that  even- 
ing, and  who  afterward,  and  so  long  as  she  lived,  did  so  much 
to  add  to  the  happiness  and  well-being  of  those  with  whom 
she  was  brought  in  contact. 


Driftwood  from  the  Thames  Battlefield  67 

When  at  last  we  were  seated  about  the  table,  Mr.  Seymour 
asked  grace,  and  this  with  such  show  of  reverence  that  I  was 
awed  by  it  as  something  new  and  strange.  For  such  a  thing 
was  not  usual,  you  must  know,  in  the  new  country.  Not  that 
men  were  lacking  in  respect  for  religious  observances;  on  the 
contrary,  but  time  pressed,  and,  moreover,  it  was  thought  that 
such  delicate  matters  should  be  left  to  those  trained,  so  to 
speak,  in  things  of  that  nature.  On  occasion,  to  be  sure,  the 
more  venturesome  would,  if  asked,  raise  their  voices  openly; 
but  such  practices  were  cause  rather  of  wonder  at  the  courage 
they  evinced  than  desire  to  emulate  them  on  the  part  of  the 
more  timid  of  the  community.  Mr.  Seymour's  custom,  how- 
ever, seemed  to  me  to  be  so  good  and  reverent  that  I  deter- 
mined if  I  ever  grew  to  man's  estate  to  do  the  same;  but  such 
resolves,  however  commendable,  are  rarely  followed,  for  when 
I  came  to  have  a  home  of  my  own,  and  children  sat  about  the 
table,  I  put  it  off,  as  weak  men  ever  do  in  cases  of  this  nature. 

For  a  long  time  the  dinner  promised  to  be  without  speech, 
all  seeming  to  be  oppressed  at  the  step  that  had  been  taken — 
a  step  that  would,  for  good  or  bad,  color  forever  the  life  of 
at  least  one  of  their  number.  At  last  Mr.  Seymour,  looking 
across  to  where  I  sat,  said,  with  an  encouraging  smile: 

"I  hope,  Gilbert,  you  don't  feel  any  regret  at  what  has 
been  done?" 

"No,  sir,"  I  answered;  "why  should  I?" 

"Nor  have  any  disposition  to  turn  back?" 

"It  would  be  too  late  for  that,  I'm  afraid,  even  if  I  wanted 
to,"  I  answered.  "Aunt  Jane  would  never  forgive  me  so 
great  an  offense." 

"No,  not  too  late,  if  you  regret  the  step.  The  blame  for 
what  has  been  done  is  all  ours,  and  no  part  of  it  would  rest 
on  your" head,"  he  answered,  kindly. 

"I  don't  regret  it,  but  I'm  sorry  for  Aunt  Jane,"  I  an- 
swered; for,  however  loth  I  was  to  live  with  her,  she  was 
entitled  to  my  respect,  if  not  my  love.  So  much,  I  thought, 
I  owed  my  father's  memory. 


68  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"Well,  you  may  be  sorry,"  Mr.  Seymour  answered.  "We 
all  admire  your  aunt,  and  if  she  would  unbend  a  little  and  let 
her  face  relax  into  a  smile  on  occasion,  she  would  be  a  most 
attractive  and  lovable  woman;  but  immersed  in  her  thoughts, 
and  formal  of  manner  because  of  it,  she  is  like  the  icebergs 
one  sometimes  meets  in  midocean,  she  is  so  cold  and  inacces- 
sible." 

"It's  her  way,  and  doesn't  mean  anything,  mother  always 
said,"  I  answered. 

"Perhaps  so;  but  age  does  not  change  or  soften  her  way, 
as  it  does  most  people.  Your  Uncle  Job  may  not  prove  as 
watchful  a  guardian  as  she  would  have  been,  Gilbert,  but  your 
heart  will  be  the  warmer  and  your  figure  the  more  supple  for 
the  freedom,"  Mr.  Seymour  went  on. 

"I'm  sure  I  shall  be  content,"  I  answered,  looking  at 
Constance,  not  finding  it  in  my  heart  to  say  I  could  be  happy 
with  any  one  away  from  her. 

"He  will  never  have  any  other  company  save  yours,  nor 
desire  for  any.  So  you  are  likely  to  see  a  good  deal  of  him, 
and  always  to  your  betterment,  I  am  sure,"  Mr.  Seymour 
answered. 

"Why  do  you  say  that,  Henry?"  Uncle  Job  asked,  looking 
up  in  surprise. 

"Because  you  are  destined  to  be  an  old  bachelor,  Job," 
Mr.  Seymour  answered,  "and  of  this  I  am  sure.  Charles, 
Gilbert's  father,  used  to  say  the  same.  You  lack  time  and 
inclination  to  find  a  mate,  and  more's  the  pity.  In  such  com- 
pany, Gilbert,"  he  went  on,  "your  craft  must  hug  the  shore 
or  sail  into  the  open,  as  fate  decides;  but  wherever  wind  and 
tide  may  take  you,  here  is  hoping  you  may  have  a  prosperous 
voyage,"  and  Mr.  Seymour  raised  a  glass  of  wine  to  his  lips, 
and  much  to  my  astonishment,  bowed  to  me  as  if  I  were  a 
man  grown.  He  was,  however,  always  surprising  those  about 
him  in  some  such  pleasant  way.  Indeed,  I  thought  his  bear- 
ing so  fine  that  for  him  to  single  out  any  one  for  notice  was 
a  distinction  to  be  remembered  and  be  proud  of  ever  after- 


Driftwood  from  the  Thames  Battlefield  69 

ward.  Thus  strongly  does  kindliness  and  courtesy  of  speech 
ever  impress  the  young  or  inexperienced  in  life. 

"We  all  want  to  join  in  that  toast,  Henry,"  Uncle  Job 
broke  in,  reaching  for  a  goblet  of  water  that  stood  beside  his 
plate. 

"Won't  you  join  me  in  a  glass  of  wine,  Job?"  Mr.  Seymour 
went  on,  observing  his  action.  "You  will  sleep  the  better  for 
it.  No?  Well,  I  won't  urge  you;  but  you  will  excuse  me, 
I  know,  if  I  say  it  has  always  seemed  strange  to  me  that  in 
this  new  country,  where  all  save  the  pious  tipple,  and  even 
they  indulge  sometimes  behind  the  door,  you  should  so  rigidly 
abstain." 

"It  looks  odd,  I  suppose,"  Uncle  Job  answered,  "but  you 
know  it  doesn't  grow  out  of  any  assumption  on  my  part.  I 
simply  don't  care  for  liquor,  and  can't  cultivate  it,  for  the  same 
reason  you  give  for  my  not  marrying;  I  haven't  the  time. " 

"Well,  that  is  a  clever  way  to  put  it,"  Mr.  Seymour 
responded.  "You  are  all  the  better,  though,  for  being  free. 
I  have  been  used  to  the  custom  since  a  boy,  and  so  it  would 
seem  odd  to  dine  without  wine  of  some  kind.  It  is  all  a  mat- 
ter of  habit,  however,  and  in  this  new  country,  where  any 
kind  of  good  liquor  is  hard  to  get,  it  is  better  to  eschew  it 
altogether,  as  you  do,  if  one  can.  Many  reprobate  the  use  of 
wine,  I  know,  but  that  is  an  extreme  way  to  look  at  it,  for 
it  is  as  old  as  man,  and  so  not  to  be  criticised  as  if  the  fashion 
were  new." 

"Custom  never  makes  a  bad  practice  the  better,  though 
it  may  excuse  it,"  Uncle  Job  answered,  good-naturedly. 

"No,  but  it  is  the  excesses  of  those  who  use  liquor  that 
should  be  condemned;  but  there  doesn't  seem  to  be  any  mid- 
dle course  in  most  cases." 

"That  is  not  the  only  thing  that  is  carried  to  excess  in  our 
new  country,"  Uncle  Job  answered.  "The  habit  of  chewing- 
tobacco  is  quite  as  harmful,  and  one  that  ought  to  be  frowned 
upon  by  all  men  with  the  beating  of  drums  and  tom-toms. 
This  for  sanitary  reasons,  if  for  no  other." 


70  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"That  is  as  men  think,"  Mr.  Seymour,  who  was  some- 
times disposed  to  be  very  democratic,  replied.  "The  custom 
is  not  nice,  but  it  will  die  out  when  men  live  nearer  each  other 
and  have  leisure  to  observe  the  habits  of  their  neighbors. 
Our  people  are  not  more  peculiar  in  this  than  in  giving  up  the 
pipe  for  the  cigar." 

"That  was  bad  taste,  for  a  pipe  is  every  way  superior  to 
a  cigar.  It  is  more  cleanly  and  costs  less  and  is  not  so  harm- 
ful," Uncle  Job  replied,  with  animation;  for  however  abste- 
mious he  might  be  in  regard  to  the  use  of  liquor,  he  was  sel- 
dom without  a  pipe  or  cigar  in  his  mouth. 

"The  pipe  will  come  into  fashion  again  when  men  have 
more  leisure,"  Mr.  Seymour  answered.  "Now  they  have 
scarce  time  to  bite  off  the  end  of  a  cigar  or  say  'Lord  forgive 
me!'  ere  they  die,  so  busy  are  they  in  bringing  the  new  world 
into  subjection.  However,  to  talk  about  something  of  more 
interest  to  these  children,  what  are  you  going  to  do  next? 
What  are  your  plans,  Job,  if  I  may  ask?" 

This  reference  to  the  future  caused  both  Constance  and  me 
to  stop  our  chatter  and  lean  forward  not  to  lose  a  word  of 
what  was  said,  but  little  comfort  did  we  derive  from  Uncle 
Job's  reply. 

"I  have  a  plan,  and  it  is  to  leave  for  home  to-morrou* 
morning,"  he  answered,  abruptly,  looking  across  the  table  to 
where  I  sat,  as  if  to  see  how  I  took  it. 

"Why  so  much  haste?"  Mr.  Seymour  expostulated. 

"Well,  the  more  promptly  we  act,  the  less  trouble  we  are 
likely  to  have.  No  one  ever  caught  Miss  Holmes  napping 
before,  and  vrhile  we  may  have  misled  her  up  to  this  time, 
it  is  not  possible  to  do  so  long.  The  safest  way  for  us,  then, 
is  to  hurry  away." 

"Surely,  Uncle  Job,  there's  no  such  hurry,"  I  broke  in, 
my  heart  ceasing  to  beat  at  the  thought  of  going  so  soon. 

"I  would  like  to  stay  longer,  but  why  take  the  risk  of 
delay,  my  son?  There  is  nothing  to  detain  us,  and  the  sooner 
we  are  off  the  less  likely  we  are  to  be  interfered  with.  So  let 


Driftwood  from  the  Thames  Battlefield  71 

us  start  in  the  morning — and  that  reminds  me,  I  ought  to  go 
and  procure  the  things  you  need  for  the  journey,  Gilbert,  if 
you  will  excuse  me,  Henry,"  he  asked,  turning  to  Mr. 
Seymour. 

"A  day  or  two  wouldn't  make  any  difference,  I  should 
think,  Mr.  Throckmorton,"  Constance  interposed.  "No  one 
will  look  for  Gilbert  in  this  room,  and  he  has  not  thought  of 
going  so  soon. " 

"Keep  still,  you  little  puss,  and  don't  meddle  in  such  seri- 
ous business,"  Mr.  Seymour  interposed,  half  seriously,  half 
in  mirth  at  her  earnestness. 

"Well,  I  don't  see  any  reason  for  such  haste,"  Constance 
answered,  as  if  that  ought  to  settle  it. 

"Nor  I,"  I  added,  shutting  my  jaws  tight,  so  greatly  was 
I  wrought  up  over  the  prospect. 

"There  is  no  other  safe  way.  Miss  Holmes  would  be 
down  on  us  like  a  hawk  before  noon  to-morrow  if  she  doesn't 
put  in  an  appearance  to-night.  Indeed,  it  would  not  surprise 
me  to  see  her  enter  this  room  any  minute,"  Uncle  Job 
answered,  in  a  decided  way,  at  which  we  all  turned  and 
glanced  toward  the  door,  as  if  expecting  to  see  her  enter,  as 
he  said. 

This  disposition  of  the  matter  I  thought  worse  than  going 
to  Aunt  Jane's,  and  when  Uncle  Job  and  Mr.  Seymour  pres- 
ently left  us  to  get  things  in  readiness  for  the  morrow,  I  turned 
and  clasped  Constance  in  my  arms  in  an  agony  of  grief  at  the 
thought  of  parting  from  her  so  soon.  Thus  for  a  long  time 
we  mingled  our  tears,  our  hearts  too  full  for  speech ;  but  after 
a  while,  regaining  our  composure,  we  fell  to  talking  of  the 
future,  and  what  we  would  do,  and  how  we  would  meet,  and 
this  with  so  much  earnestness  that  we  quite  forgot  our  present 
troubles"  in  the  contemplation  of  what  was  to  come.  Thus  it 
is  ever  with  the  young;  the  illusions  of  life  dry  their  tears  and 
cheer  them  on  when  older  people  sink  down  in  despair  and  die. 


CHAPTER  X 

AN   AWAKENING 

When  at  last  Constance  left  me  for  the  night,  I  threw 
myself  across  the  bed  without  removing  my  garments,  that 
I  might  the  sooner  lose  my  sorrows  in  the  forgetfulness  of 
sleep.  Without  avail,  however,  till  the  night  was  far  spent, 
and  then  only  for  a  moment;  for  awakening,  I  found  Aunt 
Jane  bending  over  me  grim  and  determined,  a  cruel  smile 
lighting  up  her  cold,  impassive  face.  Yes,  it  was  as  Uncle 
Job  had  said.  She  could  not  be  misled,  and  spying  out  my 
hiding-place,  had  bribed  the  attendants,  and  so  gained  access 
to  my  room — and  I  was  lost.  Stifling  my  cries,  she  beckoned 
her  servants  to  her  side,  and  they,  taking  me  in  their  arms, 
bore  me  through  the  silent  house  to  the  carriage  that  stood 
waiting  before  the  door.  Thrusting  me  within,  they  drove 
away,  muffling  my  voice  till  we  were  far  beyond  the  town. 
Then  releasing  me,  as  if  in  mockery,  I  beat  my  head  against 
the  sides  of  the  vehicle,  screaming  aloud  for  help,  but  vainly, 
for  no  answer  was  returned  to  my  angry  cries.  This  till  my 
strength  was  gone  and  I  sank  back  exhausted  in  my  seat. 

Thus  we  reached  her  home  in  the  gray  of  the  morning,  but 
not  to  enter,  for  turning  into  a  vacant  field,  she  hid  me  in 
a  house  half  buried  in  the  ground,  apart  and  far  from  the  trav- 
eled road.  Here  they  left  me,  but  returning  in  the  evening, 
covered  my  prison  deep  with  dirt,  so  that  it  resembled  a  gigan- 
tic grave.  In  this  loathsome  cell  I  remained  for  many 
weeks,  mold  gathering  on  my  garments  and  fever  racking  my 
worn  frame.  Nor  was  this  all,  for  from  out  the  sides  of  my 
prison  snakes  and  lizards  peered  at  me  with  lack-luster  eyes 
as  I  sat  brooding  the  day  through,  and  at  night  monstrous 
72 


An  Awakening  73 

field-rats,  gaining  entrance,  ran  to  and  fro  across  my  body, 
or  warmed  themselves  beneath  my  jacket.  Here  in  the  early 
morning  or  late  at  night  my  aunt  came  to  visit  me,  striking 
the.  door  of  my  prison  with  her  staff  as  she  called  my  name. 
Grieved  and  incensed,  I  for  a  long  time  refused  to  answer, 
but  at  last,  rising  to  my  feet  in  rage  to  upbraid  her  for  her 
cruelty,  I  awoke,  trembling  and  covered  with  sweat,  to  find 
Setti  rapping  on  my  door  and  calling  my  name: 

"Gilbert!   Gilbert!" 

Springing  up,  I  ran  to  her,  crying: 

"Here!  here!  Save  me,  save  me,  Setti!"  clasping  my 
arms  about  her  body  as  I  spoke. 

Startled  by  my  action  and  wild  speech,  she  sought  to  dis- 
engage herself,  but  observing  my  distraught  air,  bent  down 
and  kissed  me,  saying  soothingly: 

"What  is  the  matter,  Gilbert?  What  has  frightened  you? 
You  tremble,  and  your  face  is  as  pale  as  death." 

"It's  the  cold  and  damp,"  I  answered,  scarce  knowing 
what  I  said,  only  that  I  sought  to  cling  to  her  the  tighter. 

"That  is  not  it,  Gilbert,  for  the  morning  is  soft  and 
warm,"  she  answered,  peering  into  my  face.  "You  are  ill  or 
hiding  something  from  me.  What  is  it?" 

"Oh,  I've  had  a  dream,  a  dreadful  dream — or  it  was  true, 
I  don't  know  which.  I  thought  Aunt  Jane  came  and  took  me 
to  her  home  and  hid  me  in  a  cave  where  no  one  could  find  me 
or  hear  my  cries." 

"Oh,  you  poor  boy!  It  was  only  a  dream,  for  see,  this  is 
the  Dragon,  and  your  uncle  is  downstairs,  and  Constance  will 
be  here  in  a  moment  with  your  breakfast." 

"Let's  go  to  her;  it's  better  than  staying  here,"  I  answered, 
looking  back  into  the  room,  unable  to  command  my  voice 
or  trembling  limbs. 

"No,  Gilbert,  not  till  you  are  yourself  again.  Constance 
must  not  see  you  in  this  way,  for  the  poor  thing  is  dead 
with  grief  already,"  she  answered,  striving  to  quiet  my  agi- 
tation. 


74  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"I'll  stay,  but  don't  leave  me,  for  I'll  not  stop  here  alone; 
I  can't!"  I  cried,  fear  still  overcoming  me. 

"See,  it  is  nothing,"  she  answered,  entering  the  room  and 
looking  about.  "It  was  all  a  dream,  Gilbert.  There,  you 
will  be  yourself  again  in  a  minute";  and  putting  her  arm 
about  me,  she  led  me  to  the  open  window,  and  looking  out,  I 
saw  the  day  was  just  breaking. 

In  this  manner,  and  after  some  time,  I  regained  my  com- 
posure, so  that  when  Constance  entered  she  in  no  wise  sus- 
pected that  anything  had  gone  amiss.  Spreading  the  table, 
Setti  motioned  the  servant  to  go  away,  and  making  some 
excuse,  she  presently  followed,  leaving  us  alone.  Seating  my- 
self, I  made  pretense  of  eating,  but  only  that,  so  deeply  was  I 
stirred  by  what  had  happened  and  the  thought  of  parting  from 
Constance.  Now,  though  a  long  life  has  elapsed  since  that 
unhappy  morning,  I  can  see  her  as  plainly  as  then,  striving 
to  smile  or  say  some  cheerful  word,  but  more  often  with  tears 
filling  her  gentle  eyes  and  clogging  her  utterance  as  she  sat 
sad-faced  and  despondent  by  my  side.  In  this  way  I  made 
believe  I  had  some  appetite,  till  the  horn  sounded  the  depart- 
ure of  the  stage.  Then,  springing  to  my  feet,  I  took  her  in 
my  arms  and  kissed  her  a  thousand  times,  but  without  speech 
of  any  kind,  so  full  were  we  of  the  sorrow  of  parting.  At  last, 
tearing  myself  away,  I  hurried  below,  where  I  found  Mr.  Sey- 
mour waiting  for  me  in  the  hall. 

"Good  by,  God  bless  you!"  he  cried,  with  a  striving  at 
gayety  as  he  put  his  arm  about  me  and  led  me  to  the  door. 
"Remember,  Gilbert,  that  we  love  you  always,  and  will  wel- 
come you  back  with  open  arms  whenever  you  choose  to  come," 
he  concluded,  his  voice  choking. 

My  heart  too  full  for  utterance,  I  raised  his  hand  and 
kissed  it,  and  without  stopping,  hurried  on  to  where  Uncle 
Job  stood  waiting  to  put  me  in  the  stage.  Thus  we  went 
away,  and  turning,  I  saw  Constance  looking  down  on  me  from 
the  room  where  we  had  just  parted,  waving  me  a  last  farewell. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE  NEW  COUNTRY 

When  we  were  clear  of  the  village  and  the  straggling  houses 
that  lined  the  road  beyond  its  limits,  the  sun  was  well  above 
the  horizon,  lighting  with  ever-lessening  shadows  the  great 
prairie  spread  out  before  us.  Refreshed  and  enlivened  by  the 
pure  air  and  the  companionship  of  the  quiet  country,  I  looked 
about  me,  curious  as  to  the  route  we  were  following  and  the 
far-reaching  prospect  on  either  side.  On  our  right  the  gentle 
Mauvaise  Terre  pursued  its  slow  and  devious  course  through 
the  quiet  plain,  marked  throughout  its  winding  way  by  trees 
and  drooping  bushes.  To  the  south,  low  down  on  the  hazy 
landscape,  the  great  forest  about  Wild  Plum,  so  dear  of  mem- 
ory, showed  its  black  depths  in  the  soft  morning  air.  This 
far-off  glimpse  of  my  home  stirred  the  sorrows  of  my  heart 
anew,  but  a  turn  in  the  road  shutting  out  the  view,  I  soon 
found  myself  scanning  with  curious  interest  the  placid  land- 
scape on  which  we  were  entering. 

Our  great  state,  now  so  thickly  peopled,  had  then,  save 
here  and  there,  only  widely  scattered  inhabitants.  Its  forests 
and  prairies  were  still  undisturbed,  save  by  the  birds  and  wild 
animals  that  sought  in  their  vast  solitudes  the  security  and 
food  they  craved.  Of  highways  there  were  scarce  any,  and 
these  as  nature  had  left  them,  except  at  some  impassable 
place  where  neglect  would  have  barred  the  way.  The  streams, 
quiet  and  uneventful,  pursued  their  noiseless  way  across  the 
level  pfains,  amid  flower-strewn  banks,  unvexed  by  obstruc- 
tions of  any  kind,  save,  perhaps,  at  points  far  removed  on  the 
great  rivers,  where  primitive  ferries  added  to  rather  than 
lessened  the  solitude  of  the  gentle  landscape. 
75 


76  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

In  this  way  Nature's  aptitude  for  grouping  the  beauties  of 
her  abundant  harvest  found  material  with  which  to  work  her 
will  unvexed  by  man.  The  great  prairies,  looped  together  or 
apart,  formed  natural  parks,  interspersed  throughout  their 
length  and  breadth  with  quiet  lakes  and  still-running  streams, 
the  whole  fringed  about  with  slumbering  forests  filled  to  the 
edge  with  every  kind  of  foliage  that  could  attract  the  eye  or 
engage  the  mind.  This  grouping  of  forest  and  lawn,  sepa- 
rate yet  forever  together,  blending  and  scintillating  in  the 
sweet  air,  filled  the  heart  of  the  traveler  with  the  peace  and 
restfulness  that  only  the  quiet  of  the  country  can  afford. 
Man's  presence  here,  I  thought,  as  I  looked  forward  on  the 
road  which  scarred  the  face  of  the  grassy  plain  as  if  cut  with 
a  whip,  can  only  disfigure,  not  help  it  in  any  way. 

Such  was  the  prospect,  but  of  its  beauty  I  was  only  partly 
conscious.  This  is  not  strange,  though  no  more  so  in  the 
case  of  the  young  than  of  those  of  mature  age.  For  the 
infinite  is  ever  beyond  us,  no  matter  when  or  how  presented. 
We  can,  at  best,  only  understand  the  small  things  of  life,  the 
make-believes  of  the  world.  The  petty  park,  the  trick  of 
some  cunning  landscape  gardener,  elicits  our  admiration  and 
unstinted  praise,  and  this  properly;  but  the  wide  expanses  of 
Nature,  in  which  beauty  blend's  in  every  line  and  shadow,  pass 
by  us  unnoticed,  or  at  most  with  only  feeble  comprehension. 
Their  symphonies  are  beyond  us,  or  at  best,  find  only  a  faint 
echo  in  our  hearts. 

In  this  manner,  and  only  half-conscious  of  what  I  saw,  we 
pursued  our  way;  but  in  excuse  I  may  say  one  must  share 
in  the  quietude  of  Nature  to  be  able  to  drink  in  her  beauties 
to  the  full.  This  I  could  not  do — my  awakening  had  been  too 
rude;  nor  was  our  vehicle  one  to  invite  comfort  or  reflection. 
Hard  usage  had  long  since  dulled  its  springs,  and  its  narrow 
seats  suggested  poverty  of  material  rather  than  desire  to  put 
one  at  his  ease.  Public  need,  however,  it  was  apparent,  could 
afford  nothing  better,  and  so  the  traveler  was  fain  to  be  con- 
tent, and  was.  Of  paint  or  ornamentation  it  had  none,  and 


The  New  Country  77 

the  horses,  dulled  out  of  all  semblance  of  animation,  dragged 
us  forward  in  sullen  discontent.  In  front,  beside  the  driver, 
a  mail-pouch  lay,  and  in  the  body  of  the  vehicle  two  seats 
faced  each  other,  and  behind  these  a  rack  for  baggage. 
Above  our  heads  a  coarse  canvas  was  upheld  by  rude  supports, 
and  at  the  sides  soiled  and  tattered  curtains  flapped  uneasily 
in  the  morning  air.  The  vehicle,  however  rude,  was  thought 
to  denote  some  attempt  at  splendor,  and  never  failed  to  call 
the  more  curious  to  the  roadsides  as  it  went  back  and  forth 
across  the  country. 

Such  were  the  surroundings,  you  must  know,  under  which 
I  set  out  that  sunny  morning  in  May,  1838,  to  take  my  first 
step  in  the  serious  affairs  of  life. 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  UNKNOWN  PASSENGER 

For  a  long  time  we  rode  on  in  silence,  Uncle  Job  sitting 
back  in  the  corner  of  the  stage,  busy  with  the  sad  thoughts 
that  darkened  his  fine  face.  Perhaps  he  might  have  spoken 
some  word  had  we  been  alone,  but  there  was  another  passen- 
ger, in  the  person  of  a  tall  gentleman  with  melancholy  visage, 
who  sat  beside  him  wrapped  in  a  great  military  cloak,  as  the 
fashion  was  at  that  time.  Whether  he  came  from  Little  Sandy 
or  beyond  I  did  not  know,  for  we  found  him  thus  and  asleep 
when  we  got  into  the  stage.  Nor  did  he  arouse  himself  till 
the  sun  was  well  up  and  the  air  full  of  warmth  and  the  per- 
fume of  the  prairie.  Then  he  stirred  uneasily,  and  finally, 
after  a  prodigious  yawn  that  cracked  his  jaws  and  caused  his 
face  to  open  up  cavernous  depths  one  would  not  have  thought 
possible  in  any  man,  he  opened  his  eyes  and  looked  about. 
Amid  such  struggles,  I  idly  speculated,  man  must  first  have 
awakened  to  life;  and  pleased  at  the  conceit,  I  stared  at  him 
the  harder,  looking  point-blank  into  his  worn  face  as  if  some 
secret  lay  hidden  there,  though  I  knew  that  only  impertinence 
prompted  my  rude  behavior. 

Of  all  situations  in  life  there  is  no  such  place  in  the  world 
for  studying  mankind  or  spying  out  their  secrets  as  the  old- 
fashioned  stagecoach.  Of  escape  to  the  modest  and  shrink- 
ing there  is  none,  and  of  concealment  not  so  much  as  a  wink. 
Here  all  alike  yield  up  their  treasures,  however  loth.  A  gim- 
let could  not  more  surely  penetrate  the  heart  than  the  cold, 
unfriendly  eyes  that  peer  into  yours  scarce  a  yard  away.  Old 
people  of  discretion  and  some  pretense  of  manners  may  put 
a  limit  to  their  curiosity,  but  the  young  none  whatever.  Thus 
78 


The  Unknown  Passsenger  79 

I  sat  watching  our  fellow-traveter,  noting  the  processes  of  his 
awakening,  and  wondering  what  kind  of  a  man  he  would  turn 
out  to  be — merchant,  or  preacher,  or  boor,  or  all  in  one.  For 
youth  is  ever  thus  inquisitive,  and  more  often  than  otherwise 
at  the  expense  of  good  manners,  as  in  my  case;  but  it  is  upon 
such  small  things,  it  may  be  said  in  excuse,  that  the  mind  is 
constructed  and  some  knowledge  of  men  and  affairs  finally 
attained. 

When  the  gentleman  at  last  awoke,  he  after  a  while  took 
notice  of  my  fixed  attention,  but  not  unkindly.  Stroking  the 
beard  that  covered  his  lower  face,  and  seeing  only  an 
inquisitive  youth,  he  opened  his  eyes  to  the  full  and  smiled 
down  on  me  with  kind  benignancy.  This  smile  so  instantly 
transformed  the  man,  brightening  his  face  and  lighting  up  the 
depths  of  his  eyes,  that  I  stirred  uneasily,  as  if  by  some  imper- 
ceptible movement  he  had  taken  the  place  of  the  one  I  had 
been  watching:  and  this  was  true;  for  when  the  smile  died 
away,  the  other  man — and  it  was  another  man — with  the  worn 
face  and  inscrutable  eyes  straightway  reappeared.  This  other 
man,  homely  in  looks,  neither  invited  nor  repelled  confidence, 
but  his  face  had  about  it  something  I  had  never  seen  before 
and  shall  never  see  again.  Youthful,  it  had  an  air  of  immeas- 
urable age  and  sphinx-like  silence  and  mystery,  the  face  of 
a  man  still  young,  but  without  mirth  or  hopefulness.  Of  its 
melancholy  there  was  no  fathoming  the  depth  or  cause. 
Worn  and  seamed,  shadows  filled  its  cavities  and  lingered 
about  its  shrunken  surfaces,  giving  it  an  air  of  weariness  one 
never  sees  except  in  the  faces  of  those  who  have  suffered 
much.  Its  expression  was  as  of  a  man  who  looked  at  you 
from  out  his  grave,  but  not  forbiddingly.  Rather  as  if  seeing 
nothing  in  the  surroundings  he  craved,  or  that  could  by  any 
possibility  satisfy  his  longings.  Such,  too,  was  the  man  as  I 
afterward  came  to  know  him,  and  as  all  the  world  finally  knew 
him.  For  through  the  cracked  and  shrunken  surfaces  of  his 
face  a  great  soul  looked  out,  but  a  face  wherein  expectation 
was  lost  in  disappointment  and  dreary  waiting.  Seen  in  the 


8o  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

shadows  of  the  stage,  its  angularities  and  deep-sunken  eyes 
saddened  the  beholder  as  might  the  wailing  of  the  wind  on  an 
autumn  day;  and  this,  it  was  apparent,  would  ever  form  its 
fixed  expression,  no  matter  what  fortune  might  come  to 
brighten  the  life  of  its  possessor. 

His  hands,  great  like  his  body,  lay  limp  before  him,  and 
in  their  huge  proportions  bore  evidence  of  the  usage  such 
hands  are  put  to  in  a  new  country  when  poverty  leads  the  way. 
Observing  them,  my  eyes  again  sought  his  face  to  determine, 
if  I  might,  what  manner  of  man  he  was,  but  to  this  scrutiny 
his  eyes  returned  no  answer.  They  were,  as  I  have  said,  as 
if  belonging  to  a  dead  man,  or  one  feigning  to  be  dead,  yet 
having  in  their  hidden  depths  a  spark  of  life  that  might  need 
only  occasion  to  cause  them  to  burn  with  indignation  or  warm 
with  love.  Above  the  veiled  face  that  might  hide  an  emperor's 
front  or  only  plodding  vacuity  there  rose  a  towering  head, 
disfigured  but  not  hidden  by  the  hair  that  clung  about  it,  as 
if  filled  with  tears  or  winter's  rain.  Seeing,  and  not  seeing, 
I  sat,  absorbed  and  staring,  yet  not  forgetting  his  greeting 
and  the  sudden  change  that  followed.  Surely  a  man  must  be 
something  out  of  the  common,  I  idly  reasoned,  to  have  one 
moment  the  mien  of  a  god  and  the  next  to  shrink  to  nothing. 
Such  change,  I  dimly  saw,  as  it  is  sometimes  given  the  young 
to  see,  could  not  be  natural,  but  had  its  origin  in  some  misery 
of  life  that  led  its  possessor  to  seek  rest  and  opportunity  in 
evasion,  or  else  had  changed  the  man  from  what  he  was  at  first. 
Every  part  of  this  singular  being  corresponded  to  his  face,  so 
that  no  loophole  was  left  by  which  to  come  at  his  real  presence. 
Thus  balked,  my  mind  filled  with  romantic  imaginings  con- 
cerning him  as  he  had  stood  revealed  by  his  benign  salutation, 
and  I  saw — though  only  as  a  youth  might  see  such  things  and 
ponder  them — that  the  face  was  one  that  in  its  processes  could 
at  will  still  the  minds  of  men  or  cause  them  to  follow  its  pos- 
sessor, if  profit  in  trade  or  other  motive  called  forth  its  hidden 
power;  a  face  that  at  the  fireside  or  in  the  turmoil  of  politics, 
if  its  owner  were  that  Way  inclined,  would  win  and  retain  the 


The  Unknown  Passenger  81 

love  of  those  about  him;  a  face  so  hidden  or  so  open  in  its 
candor  that  no  one  would  think  otherwise  than  that  its  every 
thought  stood  revealed.  A  noble  face,  and  without  wrong, 
but  concealing  in  its  depths,  as  I  afterward  came  to  know, 
ambitions  so  boundless  and  hopes  so  great  that  the  means 
necessary  to  attain  their  ends  in  this  undeveloped  country 
appeared  so  commonplace  and  vulgar  that  every  instinct  of 
the  man's  aspiring  soul  revolted  at  the  disgusting  sacrifice. 
Such,  truly,  was  the  inward  nature  of  the  then  unknown  man 
who  sat  silently  facing  me  as  we  went  forward  in  the  warmth 
of  that  far-off  day.  Not  all  that  I  have  said,  indeed,  came 
to  me  as  I  sat  staring,  but  something  akin  to  it,  afterward  to 
find  more  mature  expression  as  I  grew  to  man's  estate. 

While  thus  watching  and  dreaming,  I  became  conscious, 
in  turn,  of  his  fixed  attention.  Not,  indeed,  as  if  he  saw  me, 
but  as  if  studying  some  natural  object,  as  if  wondering  within 
himself  whether  the  thing  he  looked  at  was  of  vegetable  or 
animal  growth — a  cabbage,  perhaps,  or  a  man  just  sprouting. 
Observing  his  look,  I  dropped  my  eyes  and  turned  away,  and 
seeing  this,  he  relaxed  his  gaze,  and  reaching  forward  laid  his 
great  hand  on  mine,  saying: 

"Well,  my  young  friend,  why  do  you  turn  away?  Never 
did  I  see  a  look  more  steadfast  or  prolonged." 

"I  hope  you'll  excuse  me,  sir,"  I  answered,  ashamed  and 
blushing. 

"There  is  nothing  to  excuse;  but  did  my  face  interest  you 
because  it  is  homely,  or  was  there  something  else  you  saw 
there  besides  plainness?  Come,  tell  me!  First,  though,  let  us 
be  friends";  and  clasping  my  hands  in  his,  the  God-like  smile 
again  lighted  up  his  face,  driving  the  dark  shadows  before  it 
as  the  summer  wind  drives  the  black  clouds  across  a  lowering 
sky.  "-If  I  had  a  son,  I  should  like  him  to  be  something  like 
you  in  complexion  and  build;  so  come  now,  tell  me  of  what 
you  were  thinking." 

His  voice — and  this  I  noticed — seemed  not  to  have  any 
beginning  or  ending,  but  fell  on  the  morning  air  like  a  chime 


82  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

of  bells  heard  afar  off  through  the  silent  woods,  so  sweet  and 
soft  it  was.  Nor  could  I  feel  embarrassment  in  his  presence 
once  he  had  spoken,  but  rather  as  if  contact  with  him  had  in 
some  way  made  me  more  worthy  of  regard.  Because  of  this 
I  responded  freely  enough  to  what  he  said,  answering: 

"I  was  wondering,  sir,  how  it  came  that  you  have  two  faces, 
if  you  will  excuse  me." 

At  this  he  smiled,  as  if  not  displeased  at  my  reply,  answer- 
ing: 

"Have  I  two  faces,  do  you  think?" 

"Yes,  sir;  or  so  it  seemed  to  me." 

"Well,  perhaps  I  have;  and  what  would  you  say  if  I  told 
you  one  was  my  business  face  and  the  other  one  I  keep  for 
my  own  entertainment?" 

"I  would  think  it  strange,  sir,"  I  answered. 

"Would  it  be?"  he  replied,  pleasantly.  "People,  you 
know,  who  are  on  the  lookout  for  custom  strive  to  present  as 
smart  an  appearance  as  possible.  Most  of  the  goods  mer- 
chants keep  they  expect  to  sell,  but  there  are  articles  in  every 
stock  for  which  there  is  little  or  no  demand  or  profit  in  the 
handling.  These  the  merchant  keeps  to  gratify  his  pride  of 
proprietorship.  Perhaps  I  have  such  a  weakness,  but  with 
which  face  do  you  think  I  seek  preferment,  my  son?" 

"Surely  that  which  people  like  best;  but  why  doesn't  that 
please  you,  too?"  I  answered,  led  on  by  his  engaging  manner. 

"Perhaps  because  I  must  use  it  of  necessity,"  he  replied, 
reflectively,  and  as  if  answering  some  serious  question. 
"Maybe  it  is  love  of  contrast,  or  perhaps  the  natural  recoil  of 
the  mind.  We  love  the  blue  sky  the  more  because  it  is  often 
overcast,  and  in  turn  the  clouds  and  the  storm  are  welcome 
after  days  of  sunshine;  so  it  is  with  men.  Sometimes  the  con- 
trasts are  natural,  and  perhaps  they  are  in  my  case;  but  how 
happens  it,  my  young  friend,"  he  went  on  in  his  kindly  way, 
"that  so  young  and  slight  a  lad  as  you  should  be  alone  and  so 
early  on  the  road?" 

"I  beg  your  pardon,"  Uncle  Job  here  broke  in;  "he  is  my 


The  Unknown  Passenger  83 

ward,  and  traveling  with  me,  if  you  please.  I  have  been  so 
wrapped  up  in  my  thoughts  that  I  had  quite  forgotten  where 
I  was,  and  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  recalling  me  to 
myself,  and  for  your  kind  notice  of  my  nephew."  This  was 
a  very  long  speech  for  Uncle  Job  to  make  to  a  stranger, 
but  being  a  man  much  given  to  regard  the  little  politenesses 
of  life,  he  saw  in  the  speech  and  kind  attention  of  our  com- 
panion his  gentleness  of  heart,  and  seeing  it,  was  attracted  to 
him,  as  men  ever  are  toward  one  another.  "We  are  very 
happy,  sir,"  he  went  on,  "in  having  the  pleasure  of  your  com- 
pany on  our  journey,  if  you  will  permit  me  to  say  so." 

"Thank  you.  The  society  of  agreeable  people  who  want 
nothing,  the  politicians  say,  is  a  thing  to  prize ;  and  as  we  are 
likely  to  be  long  on  the  road,  I  must  consider  myself  fortunate 
in  your  company  and  that  of  your  nephew,"  he  answered,  with 
grave  politeness. 

"Companionship  is  doubly  agreeable  traveling  these  lone- 
some stretches  of  country,  and  my  nephew  and  I  are  glad 
indeed  of  yours,"  Uncle  Job  went  on,  as  if  to  draw  the  other 
out. 

"You  are  very  kind,  sir.  Company  is  valuable  in  many 
ways,"  the  gentleman  answered,  and  not  altogether,  I  thought, 
as  if  talking  to  us.  "If  good,  we  approve  and  pattern  after 
it;  if  bad,  the  discomfort  we  suffer  strengthens  our  better 
impulses.  Much  solitude,  however,  is  necessary  to  man's 
health.  It  is  no  idle  saying  that  'Silence  is  golden,'  for  it  is 
in  such  intervals  of  rest  that  the  mind  is  fertilized  and  strength- 
ened, spreading  out  and  grasping  the  mysteries  and  common 
affairs  of  life,  just  as  the  roots  of  a  tree  seek  nourishment 
and  added  hold  in  darkness  and  solitude.  Thus  only  are  they 
able  to  sustain  the  great  height  and  luxuriant  foliage  the 
world  admires.  The  steer  that  is  watched,  to  use  a  homely 
illustration,  never  lives  to  carry  its  meat  to  market,  and  the 
child  that  is  too  much  petted  dies  young  or  lives  an  invalid. 
So  men  who  talk  too  much  have  nothing  for  the  mind  to  feed 
upon,  if  indeed  they  have  any  mind  at  all;  while  those  who 


84  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

divide  their  time  more  profitably  are  enabled  by  their  wisdom 
and  foresight  to  untangle  the  web  in  which  those  less  wise 
become  entangled." 

In  this  way,  the  ice  being  broken,  our  companion  enter- 
tained us  as  the  hours  passed.  Of  all  subjects,  however,  he 
seemed  to  like  best  those  relating  to  government,  and  Uncle 
Job,  while  having  little  knowledge  of  such  matters,  had  yet 
a  patriotic  interest;  and  so  the  conversation  of  our  compan- 
ion was  not  allowed  to  lag,  as  we  journeyed  on,  for  want  of 
an  attentive  and  appreciative  listener. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE  PLACE  OF  REFUGE 

The  undulations  of  the  great  prairie  we  were  traversing 
added  to  its  beauty  without  in  any  way  restricting  the  distant 
view,  but  late  in  the  forenoon  there  loomed  before  us  an  ele- 
vation higher  than  the  others  and  so  noticeable  as  to  attract 
and  hold  attention.  Our  companion,  indeed,  watched  it 
intently  from  the  moment  it  came  into  view,  and  this  without 
speaking  or  motion  of  any  kind,  as  if  he  were  enraptured  with 
the  view,  or  saw  something  not  perceptible  to  Uncle  Job  or 
myself.  When  we  at  last  reached  its  base,  he  called  to  the 
driver  to  stop,  and  excusing  himself,  got  down  and  made  his 
way  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  and  reaching  its  summit,  stopped 
and  gazed  about  him  and  then  upward,  as  if  offering  a  prayer. 
Remaining  thus  for  some  time,  his  tall  figure  outlined  against 
the  distant  sky,  he  at  last  turned  and  slowly  retraced  his 
steps,  taking  his  seat  in  the  stage  without  speaking.  Whether 
oppressed  by  his  thoughts  or  interrogating  our  silence,  I  know 
not,  but  after  a  while  he  turned  to  Uncle  Job,  as  if  in  apology 
or  explanation,  and  said: 

"You  wonder,  perhaps,  at  what  I  did,  but  the  hill  is  a 
sacred  spot  to  me  because  of  the  recollections  that  cluster 
about  it  and  the  memory  of  a  dear  friend  that  is  gone." 

"Indeed!"  Uncle  Job  replied,  sympathetically;  "what  you 
say  interests  me  greatly." 

"Yes,"  our  companion  went  on  in  a  melancholy  voice; 
"and  except  for  his  courage  and  knowledge  of  the  prairie, 
I  should  have  suffered  a  cruel  death  near  the  spot  where  we 
now  are." 

Saying  which  he  relapsed  into  silence  again,  and  Uncle 
85 


86  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

Job,  who  was  never  curious  about  other  people's  affairs,  or 
bashful  about  expressing  it  if  he  was — which  latter  is  perhaps 
the  more  probable  of  the  two — made  no  further  comment,  but 
sat  still,  gazing  stolidly  before  him.  I,  not  having  any  mod- 
esty, and  being  stirred  by  what  the  stranger  said,  could  not 
restrain  my  curiosity,  and  so  spoke  up: 

"Please,  sir,  tell  us  about  it,  if  you  will." 

At  this  he  smiled,  and  after  a  moment's  reflection,  answered : 

"Certainly,  if  you  would  like  to  hear  it." 

"I  should,  very  much,"  I  replied;  whereupon  he  turned 
to  Uncle  Job,  as  if  to  ask  his  consent,  upon  which  the  latter 
responded,  with  great  heartiness: 

"It  would  be  a  pleasure  indeed  to  hear  the  story,  if  it  is 
agreeable  to  you  to  tell  it." 

"There  is  not  much  to  tell,  and  of  little  account  to  any  one 
now  save  myself,"  the  gentleman  responded,  the  shadow 
deepening  in  his  face  as  he  spoke.  "It  was  a  new  experience 
to  me,  however,  though  not  uncommon  then  or  now  in  our 
young  state.  It  happened  several  years  ago,  when  I  had  occa- 
sion, late  in  the  fall,  to  cross  the  prairie  we  are  DOW  travers- 
ing. Fortunately,  as  it  turned  out,  I  fell  in  with  the  friend 
I  speak  of,  and  so  was  not  alone,  else  I  would  not  be  alive  to 
tell  it.  The  night  came  on  cold  and  cloudy,  the  wind,  which  had 
been  strong  during  the  day,  increasing  almost  to  a  hurricane 
as  the  evening  advanced.  Being  well  mounted,  however,  we 
pushed  on,  anxious  to  reach  our  destination  and  scarce  speak- 
ing a  word.  As  we  approached  the  hill  we  have  just  passed 
a  rim  of  light,  no  wider  than  your  finger,  attracted  my  atten- 
tion on  the  edge  of  the  horizon.  At  first  I  gave  it  no  thought, 
attributing  it  to  some  atmospheric  disturbance;  but  upon  its 
spreading  and  increasing  in  brightness,  I  turned  to  my  com- 
panion to  see  if  he  regarded  it  as  important.  He,  however, 
was  fast  asleep,  sitting  deep  in  his  saddle  with  his  head  buried 
in  his  greatcoat,  and  this  though  we  were  riding  at  full  speed. 
Loth  to  wake  him,  I  said  nothing  for  a  while,  but  the  light 
increasing  and  our  horses  showing  signs  of  uneasiness,  I  took 


The  Place  of  Refuge  87 

hold  of  his  arm  and  spoke  to  him.  At  this  he  straightened 
up,  snatching  a  pistol  from  his  belt  with  the  motion  as  if 
attacked.  In  a  moment,  however,  he  was  wide-awake,  and 
no  sooner  did  his  eyes  rest  on  the  lighted  horizon  than  to  my 
surprise  he  pulled  his  horse  back  on  its  haunches,  stopping 
abruptly  as  if  turned  to  stone.  Gazing  anxiously  for  a  mo- 
ment, he  exclaimed,  but  as  if  unconscious  of  my  presence: 

"  'My  God!  the  prairie's  on  fire.' 

"The  fear  his  voice  evinced  alarmed  me;  but  as  the  light 
was  many  miles  away,  I  could  not  see  that  we  were  in  any 
danger,  and  so  expressed  myself. 

"  'Not  in  danger!'  he  answered,  absently;  'in  a  quarter  of 
an  hour  the  fire  will  have  passed  miles  beyond  where  we  are!' 

"Even  while  we  waited,  the  sky  reddened  and  the  circle  of 
light  grew  longer  and  wider,  extending  now  in  both  directions 
as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach.  Still  it  seemed  so  remote  that 
I  could  not  make  myself  believe  there  was  any  danger.  Not 
so  my  companion,  who  sat  still,  scanning  the  country  about 
us,  now  beginning  to  grow  red  with  the  coming  conflagration. 
Looking  this  way  and  that,  his  eyes  at  last  rested  on  the  hill 
we  have  passed,  and  seeing  it  he  put  spurs  to  his  horse, 
crying: 

"  'Quick!  quick!     We  may  still  be  in  time!' 

"Spurring  to  his  side,  I  called  out,  'If  there  is  danger, 
why  not  turn  back!' 

"  'It  is  too  late,'  he  answered,  his  voice  drowned  in  the 
hoofbeats  of  our  horses  and  the  rush  of  the  wind  as  it  swept 
across  the  wide  expanse. 

'  'There  is  still  time  to  reach  the  forest,'  I  cried,  following 
on,  distrustful  of  his  action. 

'  'No;  in  ten  minutes  it  will  be  here,  and  then  the  Lord 
save  us!' 

"  'If  that  is  so,  why  go  forward?'  I  persisted,  as  we  went 
on  at  top  speed,  full  in  the  face  of  the  advancing  fire. 

"To  this  he  made  no  response,  but  pointed  upward  to  the 
hill  we  were  passing,  as  if  in  some  way  our  hope  of  safety  lay 


88  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

there.  When  we  had  circled  its  base  and  reached  the  farther 
side,  and  that  nearest  the  fire,  he  threw  himself  from  his  sad- 
dle, and  in  a  voice  so  loud  and  fierce  that  it  sounded  high  and 
clear  above  the  shrieking  wind,  cried: 

"  'Blindfold  and  hobble  the  horses,  and  for  God's  sake 
don't  lose  time!' 

"Saying  which,  he  took  from  his  saddlebags  an  old-fash- 
ioned pistol,  and  slipping  the  flint  from  out  its  socket,  threw 
himself  on  the  ground,  and  with  its  aid  and  the  steel  of  his 
weapon  sought  to  ignite  the  dry  grass  which  covered  the  plain. 
Succeeding  after  a  while,  he  gave  a  shout,  as  one  might  when 
saved  from  death,  and  springing  to  his  feet,  gathered  a  wisp 
of  grass,  and  igniting  it,  trailed  the  flame  along  the  base  of 
the  hill,  first  one  way  and  then  the  other.  In  a  moment  the 
fierce  wind  catching  the  fire  whipped  it  forward  and  upward, 
so  that  while  my  task  was  yet  half  done  the  flanges  had  swept 
the  sides  of  the  height,  and  covering  it,  passed  on.  Follow- 
ing in  a  few  minutes,  we  reached  the  summit,  suffering  little 
harm  from  the  smoking  and  blistered  earth.  Arriving  there, 
we  were  none  too  soon,  for  now  the  fire,  that  a  little  while 
before  seemed  so  far  away,  reached  us  with  leaps  and  bounds 
and  such  deafening  roar  that  had  we  not  restrained  our  horses 
we  could  by  no  means  have  kept  them  under  control,  so  great 
was  their  terror.  Reaching  the  edge  of  the  burnt  ground  on 
which  we  stood,  the  flames  leaped  high  in  the  air,  as  if  striving 
to  reach  the  spot  whereon  we  stood,  and  this  again  and  again, 
but  after  a  while  dying  down  without  doing  us  any  harm  what- 
ever. 

"As  the  fire  approached,  it  did  not  follow  any  given  line, 
as  one  would  think,  but  was  caught  up  by  the  strong  wind 
and  thrown  forward,  and  this  in  such  quick  succession  that 
the  whole  plain  seemed  to  take  fire  at  once.  It  was  in  some 
respects  like  what  one  may  see  on  the  water  when  a  hurricane, 
sweeping  the  tops  of  the  rolling  waves,  carries  them  upward 
and  forward,  to  let  them  drop  finally  like  a  deluge  of  falling 
rain.  So  the  flames  which  we  stood  watching  were  continu- 


The  Place  of  Refuge  89 

ally  lifted  and  carried  forward  by  great  leaps  and  bounds,  and 
with  such  speed  that  the  eye  could  only  faintly  trace  their 
progress.  At  times,  indeed,  the  earth  itself  seemed  to  be 
aflame,  and  all  things  about  to  perish,  so  fierce  and  all-pervad- 
ing was  the  heat. 

"As  the  fire  came  on  a  curious  thing  happened,  for  from 
out  the  tall  grass  about  the  base  of  the  black  hill  whereon  we 
stood  the  wild  animals  that  live  in  the  plain,  with  lolling 
tongues  and  bloodshot  eyes,  burst  into  the  open,  and  seeing 
us,  mounted  to  the  summit,  and  crouched  at  our  feet,  trem- 
bling and  panting,  as  domestic  animals  might  have  done,  all 
their  wildness  clean  gone  out  of  them.  At  last,  as  the  grass 
about  us  ignited,  a  fawn  ran  into  the  opening,  but  only  to  fall 
exhausted  on  its  very  edge.  Seeing  this,  my  companion  ran 
to  where  it  was,  and  taking  the  animal  in  his  arms,  brought 
it  safely  to  the  top.  Afterward,  not  less  curiously,  when  the 
fire  had  passed  and  we  began  to  stir  about,  all  the  animals 
took  fright  and  fled,  their  fear  of  man  returning  as  if  by  one 
accord  once  the  danger  was  gone. 

"Thus  we  were  saved,  and  in  the  manner  I  have  described. 
When  the  fire  had  died  down,  and  there  was  no  longer  any 
danger,  I  sought  to  express  my  thanks  and  admiration  for  my 
companion's  coolness  and  bravery.  He,  however,  as  if  think- 
ing lightly  of  what  had  happened,  was  already  preparing  the 
horses  for  our  departure,  and  with  such  expedition  that  ere 
I  had  recovered  myself  they  were  in  readiness  for  us  to  mount. 
Springing  into  the  saddle  as  if  urged  to  haste  by  some  motive 
unknown  to  me,  he  cried  aloud: 

"  'Come,  quick!  the  danger  is  past;  I  must  be  off!' 

"Mounting  my  horse  without  response,  we  took  our  way 
down  the  side  of  the  hill,  and  reaching  its  base,  he  stopped 
abruptly,  saying: 

"  'I  can't  go  on  with  you,  but  must  hasten  across  the 
country  to  my  home.  My  wife  will  have  seen  the  fire  and  be 
crazed  with  fear  until  she  knows  I  am  safe;  but  if  you  would 
like,'  he  went  on,  seeing  the  look  of  distress  in  my  face, 


90  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

'I  should  be  glad  to  have  you  go  with  me.  It  will  not  be 
much  out  of  your  way,  and  you  can  ride  into  town  in  the  morn- 
ing if  you  wish. ' 

"To  this  I  answered  that  I  should  be  only  too  glad  to  do 
as  he  said.  'But  how,'  I  asked,  'can  we  find  our  way  across 
the  country  on  such  a  night,  with  every  landmark  gone?' 

"  'I  know  the  direction,  and  my  horse  will  take  me  home 
without  bridle  or  spur  or  swerving  an  inch  from  the  true 
course.' 

"  'Go  on,  then,'  I  answered,  and  without  saying  more  we 
started ;  and  after  an  hour's  ride  across  the  black  expanse  at 
a  pace  I  thought  only  a  madman  would  dare,  we  reached  his 
home  in  safety,  where  we  found  his  wife,  as  he  had  thought, 
prostrate  and  in  tears.  Our  welcome  was  such  as  seldom  falls 
to  the  lot  of  men  in  this  world,  though  Mr.  Holmes  strove  to 
make  light  of  the  risk  we  had  run.  She  knew  better,  however, 
and  so  what  he  said  did  not  lessen  the  shock;  and  at  supper, 
which  was  soon  spread,  she  ate  nothing,  but  sat  idly  by,  never 
taking  her  eyes  off  his  face.  Nor  did  he  succeed  in  calming 
her  during  the  evening  that  followed,  though  she  said  little 
or  nothing.  Thus  we  escaped,  and  alas!  brave  man,  only 
that  you  should  afterward  be  overtaken  by  a  fate  scarcely  less 
cruel!" 

Here  our  companion  brought  his  story  to  an  end,  and  lean- 
ing forward  rested  his  face  in  his  hands,  as  if  consumed  by 
the  sad  thoughts  the  recollection  called  forth.  Waiting 
a  while,  Uncle  Job  spoke  up,  but  with  voice  so  low  and 
broken  as  to  be  scarce  audible: 

"You  used  a  name  just  now  that  is  dear  to  us  beyond 
speaking.  Perhaps  you  remember  Mr.  Holmes'  other  name?" 

"Yes,  Charles;  and  his  wife's  name  was  Margaret,"  he 
answered  without  moving. 

Hearing  this,  Uncle  Job  turned  toward  me  and  held  up  his 
hand  as  if  in  warning,  but  I  overcome  by  what  I  had  heard, 
burst  into  a  paroxysm  of  tears,  crying  out: 

"Father!     Mother!" 


The  Place  of  Refuge  91 

At  this  outburst  our  companion  raised  his  head,  his  look 
of  melancholy  giving  place  to  one  of  surprise.  Thus  he  con- 
tinued to  regard  me  for  some  time,  until  at  last,  understand- 
ing the  meaning  of  what  I  said,  he  reached  forward  in  tender 
pity,  and  lifting  me  up  pressed  me  against  his  heart.  Releas- 
ing me  after  a  while,  he  took  my  hand,  and  leaning  forward, 
looked  in  my  face  as  one  might  gaze  into  the  face  of  a  friend 
long  mourned  as  lost. 

"Yes,  the  same;  his  mother's  face  and  eyes,  and  some- 
thing of  his  father's  look,  too,"  he  murmured,  as  if  talking  to 
himself.  "How  strange  that  in  the  shadow  of  this  hill 
I  should  meet  their  child.  Gone;  I  thought  never  to  see 
them  again,  but  here  they  look  out  on  me  as  before." 

Overcome,  I  made  no  answer,  and  thus  we  went  on  in 
silence  until  our  little  party  having  in  some  measure  regained 
its  former  composure,  the  gentleman,  taking  my  hand,  spoke 
up  again: 

"Tell  me,  my  son,  where  you  live,  your  home,  if  you  do 
not  mind." 

"I'm  going  to  live  with  Uncle  Job,"  I  answered;  "but 
where,  I  do  not  know." 

"I  asked,  thinking  some  time  to  be  of  service  to  you. 
Who  knows:  It  would  not  be  more  strange  than  our  meeting 
here;  but  this  I  want  to  ask  of  you,  my  child,  that  you  will 
treasure  the  thought  that  I  want  to  serve  you:  and  that  you 
may  always  know  where  I  am  and  how  to  reach  me,  take 
this,"  and  tearing  a  leaf  from  a  worn  book  he  took  from  his 
pocket,  he  wrote  thereon  his  name  and  handed  it  to  me;  and 
I  looking,  read: 


92  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

This  precious  paper  I  still  have  and  treasure,  and  shall 
transmit  to  my  children,  as  one  might  the  relic  of  a  saint  or 
the  memory  of  an  event  in  which  love  mingles  and  grows 
stronger  with  the  lapse  of  time. 

NOTE. — Mr.  Lincoln  at  the  time  of  which  Gilbert  Holmes  speaks 
was  in  his  twenty-ninth  year,  but  already  bore  in  his  drawn  face  the  look 
of  melancholy  habitual  to  it  in  later  life.  This,  as  if  forecasting  in  some 
way  the  doom  that  was  finally  to  overtake  him  in  the  height  of  his  career; 
but  not,  indeed,  until  his  task  was  done  and  his  country  saved  through 
his  great  wisdom  and  patriotic  effort.— THE  AUTHOR. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  HIGHWAYMAN 

When  the  day  was  half  gone,  and  we  were  worn  with 
fatigue  and  hunger,  we  reached  the  edge  of  the  forest  toward 
which  we  had  been  tending  since  early  morning.  Here  in  its 
shadows  we  came  upon  a  lonely  tavern,  where  we  found  din- 
ner and  a  change  of  horses.  Here,  too.  the  mailbag  was 
brought  forth  for  the  first  time,  and  its  contents  scanned  by 
our  host  of  the  "White  Cow" — for  such  was  the  name  of  the 
hostelry — but  unavailingly,  for  of  letters  or  other  matter  con- 
cerning him  there  was  not  a  scrap.  Our  dinner,  which  was 
quickly  served,  was  simple  in  the  extreme,  but  greatly  to  our 
liking,  consisting  of  cornbread  and  hulled  corn,  with  pork 
and  hot  coffee  for  relishes;  and  then,  to  top  all,  and  in  the 
way  of  dessert,  wild  strawberries,  with  cream  from  the  White 
Cow's  own  dairy. 

When  we  were  ready  to  depart  the  stage  was  brought  to 
the  door,  and  taking  our  places,  we  bade  our  host  adieu, 
greatly  refreshed  in  body  and  mind  by  our  short  stop.  The 
way  lay  through  the  deep  forest,  and  our  progress,  before 
slow,  now  became  still  more  deliberate,  for  there  was  scarce 
more  than  a  path,  and  across  this  the  rank  shrubbery 
stretched  its  luxuriant  branches  as  if  to  further  bar  the  way. 
Moreover,  the  road,  softened  by  late  rains,  was  in  many  places 
impassable,  so  that  we  often  found  it  necessary  to  alight  in 
order  _ to  lessen  the  load.  Nor  was  this  sufficient  in  many 
cases,  but  in  such  emergencies  the  great  strength  of  Mr.  Lin- 
coln answered  us  in  good  stead,  being  enough  in  itself  to  lift 
the  vehicle  from  the  mire  and  place  it  on  firm  ground.  In 
this  way  our  stoppages  were  so  frequent  that  we  ceased  to 
93 


94  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

give  them  any  attention ;  so  that  finally,  when  we  came  to  an 
abrupt  halt  on  emerging  from  a  small  stream,  we  thought 
nothing  of  it  until  a  man,  springing  from  behind  the  over- 
hanging trees,  called  out: 

"Halt!  Throw  up  your  hands!" 

Not  waiting  a  response,  he  came  forward  with  resolute 
step,  covering  the  occupants  of  the  stage  with  the  weapons 
he  carried.  Scarce  had  the  summons  been  made,  however, 
than  Mr.  Lincoln,  with  a  quick  movement,  thrust  a  pistol  for- 
ward and  fired.  Missing  his  mark,  the  shot  did  not  stay  the 
robber,  for  now,  coming  on  with  longer  strides,  he  thrust  his 
pistols  into  the  stage,  crying  out: 

"Throw  up  you  hands,  or,  by  heavens,  I'll  blow  your  heads 
off!" 

At  this,  seeing  further  resistance  useless,  Mr.  Lincoln  and 
Uncle  Job  did  as  they  were  told. 

"There!  that's  more  polite.  God  Almighty,  what  an  ugly 
shot,  though!"  the  highwayman  exclaimed,  and  in  proof  of  it 
held  up  his  arm,  showing  the  sleeve  of  his  coat  half  blown 
away.  "Most  men  would  fire  back,  my  friend,  but  I  am  more 
considerate,  you  see,  though  it's  not  nice  to  welcome  a  man 
who  seeks  agreeable  company  in  so  rude  a  fashion.  There! 
you  need  not  excuse  yourselves,"  he  went  on,  in  a  whimsical, 
good-natured  way;  "but  get  down,  and  lest  you  pinch  your 
fingers,  keep  your  hands  in  the  air  meanwhile.  There!  like 
that;  thanks!"  Saying  which  he  moved  back  so  as  to  let  us 
alight,  but  keeping  his  pistols  all  the  while  pointed  in  our 
direction.  When  I  got  down,  which  I  did  with  all  haste,  he 
laughed  aloud,  as  he  did  at  Uncle  Job;  but  when  Mr.  Lincoln 
bent  forward  to  follow,  the  robber,  scanning  his  face,  gave 
a  start  of  surprise,  and  lowering  his  weapons,  cried  out,  as  if 
astonished  beyond  measure  at  what  he  saw: 

"Great  God!  Mr.  Lincoln!" 

Hearing  his  name  thus  called,  Mr.  Lincoln  sat  still, 
scrutinizing  the  robber,  as  if  trying  to  recall  his  face. 

"Good  Lord!"  the  highwayman  went  on,  after  a  moment's 


The  Highwayman  95 

pause,  "who  would  have  thought  to  run  across  you  here!  And 
to  think  I  might  have  killed  you,  of  all  men.  Do  not  get 
down,  Mr.  Lincoln,  but  let  me,  and  in  that  way  ask  your  for- 
giveness, and  on  my  knees."  Saying  which,  and  without 
more  ado,  the  bandit  dropped  down  in  the  road  in  the 
most  ludicrous  way  possible,  looking  for  all  the  world  as  if  he 
wished  he  were  dead,  so  forlorn  was  his  aspect.  To  all  this 
Mr.  Lincoln  made  no  response,  but  sat  gazing  upon  the  other 
with  darkened  brow  in  which  anger  and  surprise  were  mingled. 
At  last,  raising  his  hand  to  still  the  other,  he  said,  in  his  slow, 
measured  way: 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  all  this  nonsense,  man — if  indeed 
you  are  not  mad  or  acting  a  part?" 

At  this  the  robber,  still  kneeling,  removed  his  hat,  which 
before  partly  hid  his  face,  and  doing  so,  displayed  a  counte- 
nance singularly  handsome  and  free  from  look  of  evil  or  dis- 
sipation of  any  kind.  Seeing  him  thus  more  clearly,  Mr. 
Lincoln  exclaimed,  in  a  voice  full  of  astonishment  and  anger: 

"Fox,  the  highwayman!" 

"Yes,  Fox;  the  scoundrel  you  saved  from  the  gallows, 
only  to  risk  your  own  life  to-day." 

"If  not  me,  some  one  else,"  Mr.  Lincoln  answered;  "for 
if  you  would  rob  and,  if  need  be,  murder  a  stranger,  you 
would  not  long  respect  a  friend;  but  men  like  you  have  no 
friends." 

"No,  nor  deserve  any,  and  I  wish  you  had  killed  me; 
I  would  like  to  have  died  that  way,"  the  robber  answered, 
averting  his  face  and  rising  to  his  feet. 

"I  only  sought  to  cripple  your  arm,  as  your  torn  sleeve 
shows,"  Mr.  Lincoln  answered,  looking  him  over. 

"That  was  like  you,  but  I  did  not  deserve  it,  nor  was 
it  a  mercy  to  me." 

"No,  but  I  do  not  wish  your  blood  on  my  hands.  You  are 
not  to  die  that  way,  but  by  the  hangman,  Fox,"  Mr.  Lincoln 
answered,  soberly. 

"No,  no,  not  that!"  the  other  cried.     "I  am  not  so  bad 


96  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

as  to  deserve  such  a  death,  for  I  have  never  killed  any  one, 
and  did  not  intend  injury  to  you,  though  you  will  not  believe 
it,  and  ought  not  to." 

"It  is  not  likely;  but  tell  me  how  long  you  have  been  fol- 
lowing this  kind  of  a  life,"  Mr.  Lincoln  asked,  after  a  pause. 

"I  have  not  followed  it  at  all,  or  only  since  yesterday." 

"You  are  not  telling  the  truth;  but  how  could  you  take  to 
the  road  again  after  the  promises  you  made  me?"  Mr.  Lincoln 
inquired,  with  a  mournful  cadence  in  his  voice. 

"Oh!  you  think  I  have  always  been  a  highwayman,  and 
lied  to  you?"  Fox  cried  out  at  this  in  a  pitiful  way. 

"Certainly;  or  how  does  it  happen  you  are  here?"  Mr. 
Lincoln  asked,  his  voice  filled  with  distress  at  the  imposition 
that  had  been  practiced  upon  him. 

"It  was  exactly  as  I  told  you  at  the  time,  neither  more 
nor  less,  though  every  appearance  is  now  dead  against  me, 
I  know,"  Fox  answered,  appealingly. 

"I  have  forgotten  the  particulars,  or  remember  them  only 
vaguely.  Tell  them  to  me  again,  and  quickly;  and  speak  the 
truth  as  you  hope  to  be  saved,"  Mr.  Lincoln  interrupted. 

"I  will,  but  I  can't  speak  more  truly  than  I  did  before. 
I  was  in  bad  company,  and  that  was  all,  as  I  told  you  at  the 
time;  but  that  was  enough  to  undo  me.  A  little  while  before 
you  came  across  me  in  the  hands  of  the  farmers  I  had  been 
sick  and  unfortunate.  Traveling  across  the  country,  I  fell  ill 
of  a  fever  at  a  farmhouse  where  I  chanced  to  stop  for  the 
night;  and  here  I  remained  for  many  weeks,  while  the  man 
and  his  wife,  themselves  far  from  well,  nursed  me  back  to 
life.  When  strong  enough  to  go  on  I  had  nothing  save  my 
horse  with  which  to  pay  them  for  their  kindness.  This  I  left, 
though  they  would  have  prevented  it  if  they  could.  Going 
forward  on  foot,  and  greatly  enfeebled,  I  fell  in  after  a  while 
with  a  man  leading  an  extra  horse.  Whether  out  of  kindness 
because  of  my  forlorn  condition  or  for  some  other  reason 
I  know  not,  he  asked  me  to  make  use  of  the  spare  animal. 
This  I  did,  thanking  him  for  his  kindness;  but  when  we  had 


? 


The  Highwayman  97 

gone  a  little  way  on  the  road,  and  I  was  congratulating  myself 
on  my  good  fortune,  I  observed  men  following  us,  and  as  soon 
as  they  were  within  hearing  they  called  to  us  to  stop.  Upon 
this  I  turned  about,  but  my  companion,  going  to  one  side, 
entered  the  forest  which  here  grew  near  the  road.  Of  this 
I  thought  nothing,  but  when  the  party,  coming  up,  accused 
me  of  stealing  the  horse  upon  which  I  was  mounted,  I  looked 
around  for  my  companion  to  confirm  my  innocence,  only  to 
find  he  had  disappeared.  They  laughed  at  my  explanation, 
and  would  have  hung  me  had  you  not  come  up,  and  by  entreaty 
and  promises  to  see  that  justice  was  done,  prevailed  upon 
them  to  put  me  in  jail.  For  you  know  how  it  is  in  this  dis- 
ordered country;  a  man  may  rob  another  of  his  purse,  and 
:ven  take  life,  and  still  have  the  benefit  of  a  doubt,  but  ta 
have  stolen  a  horse  means  death,  with  no  trial  save  by  men 
in  the  heat  of  passion." 

"That  is  the  story  I  remember  you  told  me  at  the  time; 
but  what  did  you  do  afterward,  and  why  have  you  turned 
highwayman  if  you  were  honest  before?"  Mr.  Lincoln  inter- 
rupted, his  voice  wavering  between  distrust  and  pity. 

"When  I  was  set  free  every  one  thought  me  guilty,  nor 
would  they  believe  otherwise,  saying  I  got  off  because  the 
jury  was  influenced  by  your  belief  that  I  was  innocent,  and 
that  it  was  your  plea  that  saved  me,  and  nothing  else.  When 
finally  no  one  would  give  me  work  and  I  was  warned  to  leave 
the  country,  I  turned  to  the  road  for  a  living,  and  poor  it  is,, 
for  save  a  worthless  watch  I  have  nothing  for  my  pains." 

Here  the  poor  robber,  as  if  realizing  anew  his  forlorn  con- 
dition, fell  to  crying  as  if  his  heart  was  broken.  At  this  we 
were  all  greatly  moved,  so  distressing  was  the  sight,  and  from 
disbelief  were  every  one  of  us  led  to  think  he  spoke  the  truth, 
and  in  all  things  had  been  much  abused  by  the  community. 
For  a  long  time  nothing  was  said,  until  at  last,  turning  to  the 
robber,  Mr.  Lincoln  exclaimed: 

"Well,  Fox,  I  am  led  to  believe  you  again,  though  your 
presence  here  confirms  all  the  things  said  of  you  before. 


98  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

Surely  with  your  talents  you  ought  to  be  able  to  do  something 
better  than  this." 

"Let  me  have  a  chance,  Mr.  Lincoln,  for  there  never  lived 
a  man  less  inclined  to  lead  such  a  life;  but  my  good  name 
is  gone,  and  I  dare  not  show  my  face  among  honest  men. 
Of  all  the  wrongdoing  laid  at  my  door  this  is  the  beginning 
and  end,"  he  exclaimed,  drawing  from  his  pocket  a  silver 
watch  scarce  worth  the  carrying,  and  handing  it  to  Mr.  Lin- 
coln. "A  few  hours  ago,  coming  upon  an  old  man,  this  was 
all  he  had,  and  so  sorrowful  was  his  tale  that  in  pity  I  was  led 
to  give  him  the  few  pieces  of  silver  I  had  in  exchange.  Nor 
would  I  have  taken  the  watch,  only  that  I  could  not  see  how 
I  was  to  succeed  as  a  highwayman  if  I  let  the  first  man  I  met 
escape  me." 

"I  am  afraid  you  would  make  a  poor  robber,  Fox,"  Mr. 
Lincoln  answered;  "and  if  you  are  still  inclined  to  live  an 
honest  life,  I  will  help  you  to  start  anew.  Our  new  country 
is  full  of  such  breakdowns,  and  happy  the  men  who  can  and 
will  retrieve  them." 

Saying  which,  Mr.  Lincoln,  reaching  out  his  hand,  grasped 
that  of  Fox,  and  with  such  fervor  and  good  will  that  should 
I  live  a  thousand  years  I  could  not  forget  the  action,  nor  how 
it  thrilled  me.  At  this  tears  welled  up  afresh  in  the  forlorn 
eyes  of  the  poor  wretch,  and  reaching  forward  he  would  have 
embraced  Mr.  Lincoln's  knees  but  the  latter,  lifting  him  up, 
exclaimed: 

"There,  mount  and  follow  us,  or  tie  your  horse  behind  and 
get  into  the  stage  if  you  would  like  that  better.  No  one  here 
will  speak  of  what  has  happened,"  he  added,  looking  at  each 
of  us  in  turn  to  confirm  his  words.  To  this  appeal  we 
answered  with  our  eyes,  for  we  were  all  filled  with  the  great- 
est pity. 

"You  are  capable  of  great  things,  Fox,"  Mr.  Lincoln  went 
on,  "and  hereafter  you  shall  look  to  me  till  you  get  on  your 
feet  again,  which  will  not  be  long,"  he  added,  as  if  to  encour- 


The  Highwayman  99 

age  him.  Upon  this,  Fox,  without  saying  more,  mounted  his 
horse  and  fell  in  behind  the  stage,  where  he  rode  on  in  silence 
the  rest  of  the  afternoon. 

No  word  was  spoken  after  we  took  our  seats,  and  so  it  came 
about  that  I  found  myself  again  peering  into  the  face  of  the 
man  before  me,  who  had  shown,  by  turns,  such  courage  and 
trusting  faith  and  womanly  tenderness.  It  was  less  perplexing 
to  me  now,  and  in  its  sad  expression  I  read,  as  a  child  might, 
the  story  of  his  life  and  its  hardships;  hardships  patiently 
endured,  and  that  would  forever  make  its  owner  tender  to  all 
who  were  afflicted  or  in  distress;  a  face  shadowing  forth 
a  thousand  miseries,  and  that  in  youth  had  looked  out  on 
a  barren  prospect  from  a  body  overworked  and  poorly  nour- 
ished; a  face  that  hid  itself  behind  eyes  weary  with  disap- 
pointment and  vain  striving;  a  face  to  invite  confidence  and 
hold  it  forevermore;  a  face  full  of  expediency,  and  that  would 
have  been  commanding  and  self-assertive  had  it  not  been 
softened  by 'long  waiting  upon  the  pleasure  of  others;  a  face 
truly  great,  but  having  in  its  texture  other  and  lesser  strains 
such  as  all  men's  have,  the  kingly  line,  not  less  than  the  peas- 
ant's; a  face  in  which  greatness  dominated  all  others,  but 
sensitive  withal,  and  scarce  fitted  to  endure  the  bufferings  of 
unthinking  boors  who,  to  be  made  useful,  must  be  smoothed 
into  good-natured  complaisance.  Yet  such  tasks  its  owner 
set  about,  and  succeeding,  suffered  naught  save  martyrdom, 
of  which  mankind  will  forever  reap  the  fruits.  Of  my  scrutiny 
Mr.  Lincoln  took  no  further  notice,  but  shrank  back  again 
within  himself,  as  if  he  would  hide  from  every  one  what  he 
was  or  sought  to  be.  Inscrutable  man!  How  truly  great, 
and  yet  how  truly  tender  and  honest  of  heart!  Surely  such 
combination  ne'er  found  lodgement  in  man  before,  nor  will 
again  until  suffering  and  ambition  blend  strains  as  widely 
divergent. 

Thus  the  afternoon  passed  until  the  sun  was  setting,  when 
we  stopped  at  a  wayside  tavern  for  supper  and  a  change  of 


ioo  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

horses.  Here  Mr.  Lincoln  arranged  for  Fox  to  stay  until  his 
return,  some  days  later.  As  for  the  latter,  he  could  not  be 
moved  to  take  his  eyes  off  his  benefactor,  but  sat  as  if 
entranced,  and  when  we  drove  away,  watched  us  from  the 
road  until  our  lamps  were  lost  in  the  depths  of  the  surround- 
ing forest. 


CHAPTER  XV 

CONSTABLE   BLOTT 

Nothing  further  occurred  to  disturb  the  monotony  of  our 
journey  until  we  neared  its  end,  on  the  afternoon  of  the  third 
day,  when  I  was  thrown  into  a  fever  of  excitement  by  the 
strange  actions  of  a  man  of  savage  aspect  who  overtook  us  as 
we  were  slowly  making  our  way.  Pistols  protruded  from  his 
belt,  and  as  he  passed  he  slackened  his  pace,  and  thrusting  his 
lean  face  into  the  stage,  gazed  about  with  such  fierce  assertive- 
ness  that  I  threw  up  my  hands,  expecting  we  should  surely  be 
called  upon  to  halt;  but  after  eying  us  attentively,  and  me 
most  of  all,  he  straightened  up,  and  putting  spurs  to  his  horse, 
was  soon  lost  in  the  distance.  Before  this,  however,  at  every 
stop,  no  matter  what  the  cause,  I  fell  back  in  my  seat,  scarce 
able  to  breathe,  thinking  to  hear  the  report  of  a  pistol  and 
an  order  to  halt,  so  greatly  had  the  adventure  with  Fox  upset 
my  nerves.  Nothing  of  the  kind  occurring,  my  peace  of 
mind  returned  at  last,  so  that  I  was  able  to  pursue  the 
journey  with  some  comfort,  until,  as  I  say,  the  savage  little 
man  with  the  beaked  nose  and  fierce  eyes  stirred  my  blood 
afresh. 

In  this  way  our  long  ride  came  to  an  end  on  the  third  day, 
when  we  alighted,  none  the  worse  for  our  journey,  in  the  little 
town  of  Quincy.  Scarce  looking  to  the  right  or  left,  we  hur- 
ried to  the  river  to  take  the  boat  which  lay  tied  to  the  shore, 
with  steam  up.  As  I  followed  on,  however,  wide-eyed,  I  was 
thrown  into  a  tremor  of  fright  by  the  sight  of  the  savage 
little  man  who  had  passed  us  on  the  road,  who  now  stood  as 
if  awaiting  our  coming.  With  him  there  was  another  man 
of  great  stature,  but  harmless-looking,  with  flabby  cheeks 


IO2  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

and  bloated  hands  that  seemed  about  to  burst  or  drop  to  the 
ground,  so  limp  and  dangling  did  they  appear.  This  man  had 
on  some  badge  of  office,  but  loosely,  and  not  as  if  it  gave  him 
honor  or  in  any  way  added  to  his  dignity.  Between  the  two, 
the  man  of  huge  frame  and  the  pigmy  by  his  side,  there  was 
such  contrast  that  for  the  moment  I  forgot  my  fears  in  star- 
ing open-mouthed.  Surely  nothing  more  remarkable  was 
ever  seen  before.  The  weazened,  parched-faced,  pugnacious 
little  man,  frail  of  body,  and  with  legs  no  bigger  than  mop- 
sticks,  and  chest  as  flat  as  a  pieplate,  stood  erect  and  eager- 
eyed,  with  the  spring  of  a  panther,  though  long  past  the  prime 
and  vigor  of  life;  while  the  other,  scarce  thirty  years  of  age, 
was  shambling  and  heavy  on  his  feet,  and  had  about  his 
sunken  eyes  and  spongy  features  the  marks  of  a  man^  fast  fall- 
ing to  decay.  The  first,  any  one  could  see,  was  filled  to  the 
ends  of  his  nails  with  love  of  life,  and  so  had  studied  how  to 
prolong  it;  but  his  companion,  not  regarding  such  things, 
except  as  abstractions  not  needful  for  him  to  consider  with  his 
huge  frame  and  stanch  stomach,  was  broken  and  winded  long 
before  his  time. 

As  I  came  up,  eying  them  and  wondering,  the  little  man 
turned  to  his  companion,  and  pointing  to  me  called  in  a  voice 
I  could  plainly  hear: 

"That  is  the  lad  we  are  after,  Blott.  Lay  hold  of  him, 
and  see  that  he  doesn't  get  away." 

Upon  this  the  latter,  winking  heavily,  as  if  to  collect  his 
wits,  came  forward,  and  laying  his  hand  on  my  arm,  said: 

"Hold  on,  my  lad,  I  want  you." 

"What  for?"  I  asked,  staring  at  him. 

"For  company  mebbe,  and  mebbe  because  I've  a  summons 
for  you,"  he  answered,  good-naturedly. 

"A  summons!  What's  that?"  I  asked,  confused,  not 
understanding  fully  what  he  meant. 

"It's  the  beginnin'  of  trouble  for  you,  I'm  afeered;  but 
what's  the  world  comin'  to,  Pickle.  Don't  children  learn 
nothin*  nowdays,  not  to  know  what  a  summons  is?" 


Constable  Blott  103 

"Nevermind  that,"  the  savage  little  man  exclaimed;  "but 
tell  him  and  march  along." 

"Well,  sonny,  it's  an  order  to  take  you  to  court,"  the 
other  answered,  placidly. 

"To  court!"  I  exclaimed,  striving  to  free  myself. 

"To  the  justice's  office,  innocent.  Where  else  could  it 
be?"  he  answered,  taking  a  firmer  hold  of  my  jacket. 

"Why?  I've  done  nothing,  for  we  have  just  got  here,"  I 
answered,  still  attempting  to  get  away. 

"Mebbe,  but  don't  ask  me,  for  blister  my  nose  if  I  know; 
but  quit  wrigglin';  you're  harder  to  hold  than  an  eel." 

"Well,  I'm  not  going  to  any  justice's  office,"  I  answered, 
slipping  out  of  my  jacket  and  starting  to  run. 

"Hello,  my  bird!"  he  cried,  catching  hold  of  me.  "Now 
keep  quiet,  or  I'll  put  the  come-alongs  on  you,  an'  I'd  hate 
to  do  that,  you're  so  young  an'  fresh." 

"You  are  a  bigger  boy  than  he,  Blott,  and  don't  know  half 
as  much,"  the  little  man  here  interposed.  "What  are  you 
about?  Are  you  going  to  stand  here  all  day  wrangling  with 
him?" 

"If  it  was  you,  Pickle,  I'd  show  you  how  spry  I  could  be," 
Blott  answered,  eying  the  other. 

Seeing  no  way  of  escape,  I  called  at  the  top  of  my  voice  to 
Uncle  Job,  who  had  stopped  a  few  feet  away,  and  stood  beside 
Mr.  Lincoln,  watching  the  loading  of  the  boat.  Hearing  my 
cry  and  seeing  the  officer,  they  turned  and  hurried  back. 

"What  have  you  got  your  hand  on  that  lad  for,  officer?" 
Uncle  Job  asked,  as  he  came  up. 

"  'Cause  I'm  attached  to  him,"  he  answered,  winkirg 
stupidly  at  Mr.  Lincoln. 

"What  do  you  mean!  Let  go  of  him,  I  say!"  Uncle  Job 
demanded,  advancing  with  a  determined  air. 

"Yes,  when  I've  delivered  him  to  the  justice,  as  the  sum- 
mons says,  an'  not  before;  so  don't  git  red  in  the  face  or 
meddle,"  the  constable  answered,  facing  Uncle  Job  and 
straightening  up. 


IO4  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"The  summons!  What  summons?  There  is  some  mis- 
take, man!  No  one  has  issued  a  summons  for  him,  for  we 
haven't  been  here  five  minutes." 

"You've  another  guess,  my  friend.  I  only  know  what 
I  know,  an'  as  the  fee  is  small  I'm  not  'tending  night-school 
to  increase  my  learnin'.  So  stand  back  an'  don't  interfere," 
the  constable  answered,  good-naturedly,  but  as  one  in  the  right. 

"What  reason  is  there  for  issuing  the  summons?  Surely 
you  must  know  that?"  Uncle  Job  asked,  bewildered. 

"I  don't  know  what  he's  done,  nor  why;  but  mebbe  Pickle 
there  can  tell  you.  He  knows  everything,"  Blott  answered, 
nodding  toward  the  little  man  in  gray,  who  now  stepped  for- 
ward and  spoke  up  with  great  show  of  authority. 

"The  lad  is  a  runaway,  and  is  to  be  taken  back  to  his 
home;  and  the  justice's  summons  is  to  secure  that  and  noth- 
ing more." 

"No  justice  has  any  authority  to  meddle  with  him," 
exclaimed  Uncle  Job,  angrily.  "Moreover,  what  interest 
have  you  in  the  matter?" 

"As  to  the  right  of  the  justice  to  meddle,  that  is  a  matter 
for  him  to  determine,  having  possession  of  the  boy.  For 
myself,  sir,  I  am  a  lawyer,  and  come  here  at  the  instance  of 
my  client  to  regain  possession  of  her  ward." 

"Oh,  rot!"  Uncle  Job  exclaimed,  in  great  wrath.  "No 
one  has  a  right  to  make  any  such  claim.  But  come,  officer, 
we  are  losing  time,  and  nothing  will  come  of  standing  here 
wrangling.  Take  us  to  the  justice,  so  that  the  matter  can 
be  explained  and  the  lad  released." 

"Fall  in,  then,  for  the  justice's  order  is  to  bring  the  lad 
straight  to  him.  Come  now,  young  man,  no  more  slippin' 
out  of  your  clothes,  but  be  good";  and  with  this  admonition 
he  turned  about  and  led  the  way  toward  the  town,  the  others 
following. 

As  we  went  forward,  Mr.  Lincoln,  who  had  looked  on  with- 
out remark,  unable,  it  was  apparent,  to  comprehend  the  reason 
of  my  arrest,  asked  Uncle  Job  the  meaning  of  it  all.  Upon 


Constable  Blott  105 

this  the  latter  explained  how  it  was,  giving  him  such  account 
of  his  dispute  with  Aunt  Jane  as  he  thought  necessary,  but 
more  particularly  how  she,  an  austere  maiden  lady  of  fifty, 
and  of  questionable  gentleness  of  heart,  sought  to  become  my 
guardian  whether  or  no.  This  strangely  enough,  he  thought, 
for  she  had  never  been  friendly  to  my  mother,  and,  indeed, 
was  thought  not  to  have  been  well  inclined  toward  my  father 
at  the  last.  Nor  had  she  my  love  or  respect,  for  that  matter. 
For  these  reasons,  Uncle  Job  went  on,  he  had  opposed  her 
wishes,  and  was  determined  to  do  so  to  the  end.  To  all  this 
Mr.  Lincoln  made  no  reply,  and  when  Uncle  Job  had  finished, 
continued  on  in  silence,  as  if  summing  up  the  case,  pro  and 
con,  as  a  judge  might  do  on  the  bench. 

The  town  of  Qunicy  at  the  time  of  which  I  speak  was  one 
of  many  small  places  that  had  sprung  up  on  the  banks  of  the 
Mississippi  about  the  time  of  the  Black  Hawk  war.  Most  of 
these  exist  to-day  as  attractive  cities,  but  others  not  so  wisely 
located  have  long  since  been  abandoned,  many  of  them  being 
lost  even  to  memory.  New  and  unkempt,  the  houses  of  the 
little  city  were  scattered  here  and  there,  as  if  placed  by  blind 
men  or  spilled  off  a  tray  in  some  unaccountable  way.  Such, 
however,  is  the  beginning  of  all  cities,  their  dignity  coming 
later,  with  pride  and  prosperity,  as  in  the  case  of  men.  Most 
of  the  stores  and  warehouses  of  the  town,  and  there  were  not 
many,  were  grouped  about  the  public  square  near  the  center 
of  the  village,  and  in  front  of  one  of  these,  built  of  rough 
boards  and  roofed  with  like  material,  our  little  party  presently 
came  to  a  halt.  Above  the  door  of  this  structure  there  was 
a  flaring  sign  recounting  the  goods  sold  within  and  the  great 
bargains  that  awaited  the  fortunate  buyer.  Below  this,  one 
more  modest  told  that  it  was  also  the  office  of  the  justice  of 
the  peace,  and  this  not  strangely,  for  it  was  common  then, 
as  it  is  now  in  the  country,  thus  to  merge  the  duties  of  trades- 
man and  magistrate. 

When  we  entered,  the  justice  was  busy  tying  up  a  package, 
as  were  all  his  clerks,  and  this  as  if  that  were  the  chief  end 


io6  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

and  aim  of  trade  in  Quincy,  as  it  was  in  fact,  and  properly 
enough.  Observing  us,  he  motioned  for  the  officer  to  go  on 
to  the  office  in  the  rear,  where  he  occupied  himself  at  intervals 
of  the  day  hearing  such  cases  as  were  brought  before  him. 

The  store  through  which  we  now  passed  I  thought  preten- 
tious in  the  extreme,  and  indeed  it  was  such  a  one  as  to  cause 
a  country  lad  to  open  his  eyes  in  wonder.  On  the  left  the 
shelves  were  packed  with  bottles  filled  with  drugs,  all  with 
picturesque  and  highly  colored  labels,  as  if  containing  tempt- 
ing delicacies  or  things  of  that  nature.  Farther  on  there  was 
crockery,  and  this  of  every  kind;  yellow,  however,  over- 
shadowed all  other  colors.  In  the  display  of  these  wares  per- 
fect candor  was  observed,  and  this  without  reference  to  the 
use  the  article  was  put  to;  but  trade  is  ever  thus  ingenuous, 
having  no  real  modesty.  For  gain  is  a  brazen  hussy,  and 
never  loses  opportunity  to  display  her  charms  if  trade  may  be 
fostered  thereby.  On  the  other  side  of  the  store  shelves 
stuffed  with  dry  goods  reflected  back  the  hues  of  bright  cali- 
coes and  delaines,  interspersed  with  worsted  and  highly  col- 
ored scarfs.  Stockings  of  a  passionate  hue  also  hung  here  and 
there  invitingly  from  conspicuous  places.  On  the  counter 
gaudy  jewelry  was  temptingly  spread  in  cases  covered  with 
stout  wire,  as  if  much  in  need  of  such  protection.  Further 
back  a  receptacle  was  piled  high  with  fat,  obtrusive  pies,  for 
those  who  craved  delicacies  of  that  nature.  Beyond  this  gro- 
ceries and  tobacco  occupied  the  space.  Nor  was  this  all,  for 
from  the  ceiling  savory  hams  and  succulent  pieces  of  bacon 
hung,  redolent  of  the  smokehouse  and  temptingly,  so  that 
the  very  sight  of  them  made  one's  mouth  water  with  desire. 
In  the  extreme  rear  a  space  was  cleared,  and  here,  facing  the 
front,  a  chair  and  table  served  for  the  seat  of  justice.  About 
these  were  other  chairs,  and  empty  boxes  tipped  on  end,  all 
arranged  in  the  form  of  an  amphitheater.  Still  back  of  these, 
packages  of  goods  were  piled,  in  which  cheese  and  fish  pre- 
dominated, as  was  apparent  from  the  odor  that  filled  the  place. 
At  one  side,  to  tempt  the  good-natured,  a  barrel  of  tobacco 


Constable  Blott  107 

stood  open,  inviting  all  who  would  to  fill  their  pipes  without 
hindrance  or  pay. 

Such  was  the  court  of  justice  into  which  we  were  ushered. 
As  we  stood  patiently  waiting  the  coming  of  the  judge,  Blott 
mopped  his  face  and  shifted  nervously  from  one  foot  to  the 
other,  as  if  laboring  under  great  excitement  of  some  kind,  but 
of  what  nature  I  could  not  tell,  until  at  last,  losing  all  control 
over  himself,  he  let  go  my  arm,  and  springing  back,  cried, 
in  a  voice  of  terror: 

"Scat,  you  imps!  scat!"  at  the  same  time  kicking  angrily 
at  some  object  he  saw  before  him.  Seeing  nothing,  we  all 
looked  at  him  in  surprise,  which  he,  presently  noticing, 
remarked  in  a  shamed  way:  "I  hate  cats,  and  black  ones 
more  particular.  They  give  me  the  shivers.  Take  'em  away; 
take  'em  away,  please,  please,  please!"  he  added,  plaintively, 
waving  his  hand. 

"I  have  always  heard  it  said  that  it  was  a  sign  of  good 
luck  to  have  a  black  cat  rub  against  you;  but  there  are  no 
cats  here,"  the  little  lawyer  spoke  up,  after  eying  Blott  curi- 
ously for  a  while. 

"Mebbe  your  sight's  failin'  account  age,  for  there's  three 
of  'em  peerin'  from  under  them  bags  yonder,"  Blott  answered, 
looking  furtively  in  the  direction  indicated. 

"Three  of  them?  Well,  well,  you  have  got  it  bad.  What 
do  you  generally  take  for  these  attacks?"  the  lawyer  answered, 
grimly,  as  if  enjoying  the  other's  fright. 

"What  do  I  take?  Can't  a  man  see  cats  without  bein' 
thought  queer?  Any  one  can  see  'em,"  he  answered,  turning 
to  Uncle  Job  to  confirm  his  statement. 

"It  is  a  clear  case  of  jimjams,"  the  lawyer  went  on;  "and 
if  you  will  take  my  advice,  you  will  sleep  more  and  booze  less, 
my  friend." 

"Don't  git  gay  now,  grandpa,  nor  expect  a  fee  for  your 
advice.  A  little  liquor  wouldn't  hurt  you,  or  meat,  either, 
if  I'm  any  judge  of  its  effect  on  skeletons,"  Blott  replied, 
without  taking  his  eyes  off  the  hiding-place  of  his  enemies. 


io8  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"Here,  take  a  pull  at  this,"  the  lawyer  answered  at  length, 
handing  him  a  flask  filled  with  liquor.  "The  hair  of  the  dog 
is  good  for  the  bite,  they  say;  anyway,  it  will  quiet  your 
nerves  till  we  get  through  with  this  trial,  when  I  would  advise 
you  to  go  and  drown  yourself." 

To  this  Blott  made  no  reply,  but  taking  the  flask,  emptied 
it  without  stopping  to  breathe. 

"It's  the  drops  that  woman  give  me  as  has  brought  this 
on,  an'  nothin'  else,"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  wiped  his  mouth 
with  the  flat  of  his  hand. 

What  more  he  would  have  said  or  done  I  do  not  know,  for 
all  further  conversation  was  here  cut  short  by  the  entrance 
of  the  magistrate. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

BEFORE  THE  LITTLE   JUSTICE 

The  justice  of  the  peace,  a  smiling,  amiable  man,  given 
to  trade  and  knowing  nothing  of  the  law,  nor  professing  to, 
except  as  it  was  filtered  to  him  through  the  hints  of  lawyers, 
bowed  politely  as  he  entered,  and  taking  his  seat,  said: 

"I  am  ready  to  hear  your  case  now,  officer." 

Upon  this  Blott,  who  had  in  some  measure  regained  his 
composure,  stepped  forward  and  raised  his  hand  to  be  sworn, 
but  remembering  that  such  formality  was  unnecessary, 
dropped  it,  with  a  gesture  of  disgust,  and  answered : 

"Please,  your  honor,  this  is  the  lad  the  summons  was  for," 
nodding  down  on  me  as  he  concluded. 

Motioning  me  to  come  forward,  the  justice  spoke  up,  with 
a  reassuring  smile: 

"Don't  be  frightened,  my  son,  for  no  one  here  intends  you 
harm."  This  as  if  in  answer  to  my  distressed  look,  or  per- 
haps because  he  too  had  a  child  somewhere  more  happily 
placed  than  I.  Then,  assuming  the  air  of  his  office,  he  went 
on,  but  mildly  and  as  if  to  give  me  courage: 

"What  is  your  name,  young  man?" 

"Gilbert  Holmes,  sir?" 

"How  old  are  you?" 

"Twelve,  if  you  please.' 

"You  look  older.     Are  your  parents  alive?" 

"No,  sir." 

"Have  you  a  guardian?" 

"No,  sir." 

"What  near  relatives?" 

''My  uncle,  Job  Throckmorton,  and  my  aunt,  Miss  Jane 
Holmes." 

109 


no  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"Where  does  your  aunt  live?" 

''On  her  farm,  near  Little  Sandy." 

"Does  she  seek  to  become  your  guardian?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Does  any  one  else?" 

"Yes;  Uncle  Job." 

"Is  your  uncle  present?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  I  answered,  turning  around  and  pointing  him 
out  to  the  justice. 

At  this  Uncle  Job,  taking  a  step  forward,  bowed,  and 
addressing  the  justice,  said: 

"This  lad  is  my  nephew,  if  you  please,  and  I  am  taking 
him  to  my  home.  He  is  in  my  care,  and  I  trust  you  will  allow 
us  to  to  go  on  without  further  hindrance." 

"I  am  sorry  to  put  you  to  any  trouble,  sir,  but  I  must 
look  into  the  matter  now  that  it  is  brought  before  me,"  the 
justice  answered,  politely,  scrutinizing  Uncle  Job  as  he  spoke. 
Then  turning  to  me  he  continued:  "If  you  were  allowed 
a  choice,  my  son,  which  would  you  choose  for  your  guardian, 
this  gentleman  or  your  aunt?" 

Ere  I  could  answer,  the  gray-faced  little  lawyer,  thrusting 
himself  to  the  front,  interposed  angrily,  saying: 

"I  protest,  your  honor,  against  this  method  of  trying  the 
case.  It  will  not  lead  to  anything  definite,  for  the  lad  is  not 
of  age  to  choose  for  himself,  and  has  therefore  no  voice  in  the 
matter.  I — " 

"Excuse  me,  sir,  but  what  interest  have  you  in  the  mat- 
ter?" the  justice  interrupted,  annoyance  clearly  showing  in 
his  mild  face. 

"My  name  appears  as  attorney  in  the  affidavit,  as  you 
ought  to  know.  It  is  Sylvester  Moth,  lawyer,  and  I  am  here 
to  represent  the  interests  of  my  client,  Miss  Jane  Holmes, 
from  whom  this  lad  was  abducted  by  Job  Throckmorton,  sur- 
reptitiously and  with  malice  aforethought." 

"I  protest  that  what  he  says  about  the  lad's  being  abducted 
is  not  true,"  Uncle  Job  objected. 


Before  the  Little  Justice  1 1 1 

"We  will  come  to  that  in  a  moment,"  the  justice  answered, 
pleasantly.  Then  turning  to  Moth,  he  asked:  "Is  the  Miss 
Holmes  you  refer  to  the  guardian  of  the  lad?" 

"Every  one  understood  she  was  to  act  in  that  capacity, 
your  honor,  and  it  was  generally  recognized  as  the  only  fit 
thing.  Because  of  this,  legal  steps  were  thought  to  be 
unnecessary;  but  upon  the  matter  being  brought  to  the  atten- 
tion of  the  proper  tribunal,  in  the  emergency  that  has  arisen, 
the  judge  has  expressed  a  desire  to  pass  upon  it  in  due  form — 
and  in  Miss  Holmes's  interest,  I  may  add." 

"Let  me  see  his  summons,"    the  justice  interposed. 

"Please,  your  honor,  upon  hearing  of  the  lad's  abduction, 
the  necessity  for  haste  was  so  great  that  I  only  had  time  to 
consult  the  judge  informally  before  my  departure.  There 
can  be  no  doubt,  however,  what  his  decision  in  the  matter 
will  be." 

"Why  should  he  favor  Miss  Holmes,  may  I  ask,  in  prefer- 
ence to  the  other  claimant?"  the  .justice  said,  glancing  in 
the  direction  of  Uncle  Job,  who  stood  looking  on  with  a  face 
black  as  midnight. 

"Because  of  the  two  she  only  is  fit  to  serve.  There  can 
be  but  one  choice  between  them,  as  you  yourself  must 
acknowledge  when  you  hear  the  facts.  Miss  Holmes  is 
a  woman  of  mature  years  and  great  respectability,  and  pos- 
sessed, moreover,  pf  large  property,  so  that  she  is  able  to 
look  after  the  lad's  comfort  while  young,  and  advance  his 
fortunes  when  he  comes  to  manhood.  She  is  his  aunt,  his 
father's  devoted  sister,  and  deeply  attached  to  him,  and  ear- 
nestly solicitous  of  his  bringing-up  and  final  position  in  the 
world,  and  for  these  reasons  should  be  his  guardian." 

"Is_not  this  gentleman  equally  worthy,  equally  solicitous?" 
the  justice  asked,  as  Moth  came  to  a  halt. 

"No,  your  honor;  it  is  impossible.  The  Jad's  reputed 
uncle,  Job  Throckmorton^  who  is  he?  No  one  knows. 
A  youth  without  friends  or  fortune  or  fixed  abode!  Who  can 
tell  what  he  designs  doing  with  the  lad?  Who  will  hold  him 


H2  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

accountable?  Who  trace  him  hereafter?  A  myth — here 
to-day,  to-morrow  where?  What  fate  has  he  in  store  for  this 
tender  and  homeless  youth?  We  may  surmise,  and  doing  so, 
hesitate.  Will  it  be  a  home  and  careful  schooling  and  Chris- 
tian example,  such  as  Miss  Holmes  offers?  Or — the  thought 
chills  me — the  slave-block  perhaps,  and  afterward  some  far- 
off  plantation  in  the  everglades  of  Florida,  where  a  fortune 
may  be  had  for  such  a  lad?  In  view  of  this,  and  other  things 
that  will  occur  to  a  man  of  your  experience  and  discernment, 
can  there  be  but  one  course  to  follow  in  disposing  of  the  lad? 
No;  and  in  this  I  am  sure  we  will  agree." 

This  tirade  was  more  than  Uncle  Job  could  patiently  listen 
to,  and  thrusting  himself  forward,  he  again  addressed  the 
justice: 

"May  it  please  you  honor,  this  man's  insinuations  in  regard 
to  myself  and  what  I  will  do  are  unworthy  of  your  notice. 
What  he  says  about  my  having  no  fixed  home  is  true,  but 
I  will  devise  ways  for  caring  for  the  child,  and  such  as  his 
father  and  mother  would  approve  and  applaud  were  they 
alive.  I  am  most  tenderly  attached  to  him,  and  having  no 
family,  will  make  his  happiness  the  concern  of  my  life.  This 
I  pledge  you  my  word." 

This  true  statement  Uncle  Job  thought  unanswerable;  but 
while  he  hesitated,  considering  whether  it  was  best  to  say 
more,  Moth  broke  in  again,  more  vehemently  than  before. 

"Stuff!  Nonsense!  Talk,  your  honor;  nothing  else.  Mr. 
Job  Throckmorton,  if  I  know  anything  of  men,  is  nothing 
more  or  less  than  an  adventurer.  He  seeks  possession  of  the 
child  to  gratify  a  spite  against  my  client,  the  lad's  loving  aunt, 
and  not  from  any  interest  in  the  child  himself.  His  malice 
is  born,  I  may  say,  in  misapprehension  and  fostered  by  a  vin- 
dictive spirit  that  only  a  man  with  a  bad  heart  could  have. 
Miss  Holmes  offers  her  nephew  a  home,  shielded  by  love,  and 
holds  out  to  him  the  care  of  a  wise  and  tender  mother.  Could 
more  be  asked?  In  one  direction,  your  honor,  security  and 
happiness  await  the  youth.  In  the  other,  uncertainty,  dis- 


Before  the  Little  Justice  113 

tressing  doubt — at  best  the  life  of  a  vagrant.  In  view  of  all 
this,  I  crave  your  enlightened  action  in  furtherance  of  the 
beneficent  purposes  of  my  client.  This,  I  may  add,  will  be 
secured  by  your  holding  her  nephew  to  await  the  summons  of 
the  judge  having  jurisdiction  in  the  case." 

Such  disposition  of  the  matter,  it  was  clear,  struck  the  jus- 
tice as  being,  under  the  circumstances,  a  way  that  could  be 
safely  followed,  and  looking  toward  me,  he  nodded  as  if  in 
acquiescence.  Thus  in  a  moment  all  my  hopes  were  destroyed 
— and  oh,  the  grievousness  of  it!  To  be  disposed  of  out  of 
hand,  as  if  I  were  a  mere  baby  and  helpless,  when,  oh,  how 
dim  and  immeasurably  distant  childhood  seemed  to  me!  Not 
a  thing,  indeed,  of  yesterday,  but  far  off,  as  if  it  had  never 
been.  No,  never  was  I  to  know  again  the  unconscious  happi- 
ness of  youth,  but  in  its  place  the  maturity  that  sorrow  and 
abandonment  quickly  bring.  Thus  mourning,  my  thoughts 
turned,  as  in  every  emergency  of  my  life,  to  Constance. 
Sweet  Constance!  How  her  heart  would  bleed  did  she  but 
know  of  my  sad  plight,  and  this  unhappiness  she  would  share, 
with  embrace  of  love,  as  always;  but  oh,  how  unavailingly ! 
Thus  thinking,  I  was  comforted  as  if  she  were  near  me,  and 
in  the  thought  forgot  my  misery  and  where  I  was. 

While  my  mind  was  thus  filled  with  tender  remembrance 
of  my  love,  Mr.  Lincoln  arose  and  made  his  way  forward  to 
the  cleared  space  before  the  justice,  and  the  latter,  observing 
him,  stood  up,  and  with  a  smile  of  recognition,  shook  him 
warmly  by  the  hand.  After  some  further  exchange  of  greet- 
ing, wherein  both  seemed  pleased,  the  justice  asked: 

"Do  you  desire  to  appear  in  this  case,  Mr.  Lincoln?" 

"Yes,  if  you  please,"  he  responded,  moving  back  a  step- 
and  bowing  to  the  justice,  as  if  in  recognition  of  the  dignity 
of  the  law,  howsoever  presented;  "and  may  it  please  your 
honor,"  he  went  on,  in  his  slow,  melancholy  way,  "I  venture 
to  do  so  without  solicitation,  but  properly,  I  think,  in  view 
of  the  unfriended  state  of  this  youth.  I  am,  I  may  say,  in 
a  measure  familiar  with  the  case,  and  may  add  that  it  appeals 


114  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

to  me  deeply.  What  has  been  said  by  my  brother  lawyer  in 
regard  to  the  social  position,  wealth,  and  high  character  of 
his  client,  Miss  Jane  Holmes,  is  true  in  every  particular,"  he 
continued,  bowing  to  Moth.  "She  is  well  known  to  me,  and 
that  her  every  thought  in  regard  to  her  nephew  is  creditable 
to  her  I  cannot  doubt.  She  has  no  object  in  desiring  to 
befriend  him  save  his  good,  and  this  I  firmly  believe,  and  in 
this  view  of  the  matter  she  has  my  gratitude  and  admiration, 
as  she  should  that  of  every  man." 

"You  see,  your  honor,"  Moth  here  broke  in,  exultingly, 
""he  confirms  what  I  have  said  in  every  particular." 

"Will  you  keep  still!"  Blott  spoke  up,  laying  his  hand  on 
Moth's  shoulder.  "You  can't  hold  the  yarn  an'  wind  it,  too, 
Pickle.  Let  the  other  side  have  a  chance,  man.  Why  you're 
as  full  of  wind  as  a  bellus. " 

"While  we  may  admit  Miss  Holmes'  worth,"  Mr.  Lincoln 
resumed,  "that  does  not  lessen  the  claim  of  Mr.  Throckmor- 
ton;  and  before  proceeding  it  is  my  duty,  as  it  is  the  duty  of 
every  one  when  the  character  of  another  is  aspersed,  to  clear 
it  from  suspicion,  so  far  as  may  be.  This  I  desire  to  do  in 
the  case  of  Mr.  Throckmorton,  for  Mr.  Moth  is  misinformed, 
and  grossly  so,  in  regard  to  him.  On  no  other  grounds  are 
his  statements  worthy  of  his  calling  as  a  lawyer  or  the  dignity 
of  the  court  he  addresses.  The  facts  are  in  every  way  hon- 
orable to  Mr.  Throckmorton.  The  candor  of  his  face  is  proof 
of  this,  and  I  beg  of  you  to  study  it  attentively.  The 
Almighty  thus  stamps  the  character  of  his  children  so  that 
all  may  see,  if  they  will.  This  is  especially  true  of  the  young. 
For  if  malignant  or  uncharitable,  time  has  not  been  granted 
in  which  to  hide  it  behind  the  smile  of  complaisance;  and  if 
honest,  distrust  has  not  yet  led  its  owner  to  conceal  the  truth 
behind  a  mask  of  cunning  or  a  smile  of  incredulity.  Thus  we 
may  judge,  and  never  mistakenly,  and  we  may  do  so  in  this 
case  without  going  astray.  I  am  confident  of  Mr.  Throck- 
morton's  uprightness  and  good  intentions,  and  believing  as 
I  do,  hope  to  make  it  equally  plain  to  your  honor.  This  is  my 


Before  the  Little  Justice  115 

reason  and  excuse  for  appearing  here.  It  has  been  my  good 
fortune  to  be  the  close  companion  of  these  young  gentlemen 
for  several  days,  and  during  that  time  my  opportunities  for 
studying  them  have  been  such  as  rarely  fall  to  one's  lot,  and 
unconsciously  too,  and  without  purpose  on  their  part.  More- 
over, I  know  Mr.  Throckmorton  through  others,  and  no  man 
stands  higher  in  the  regard  of  men,  for  he  is  trusted  and  his 
word  accepted  wherever  given.  Such  is  the  testimony.  That 
he  will  do  as  he  says  in  this  case,  there  can  be  no  shadow  of 
doubt,  and  I  confidently  appeal  to  you  to  believe  him.  He 
has  no  home,  as  has  been  said,  and  that  is  to  be  regretted ; 
but  he  has  the  boy's  love  and  entire  confidence.  In  return 
his  heart  is  tenderly  regardful  of  the  youth's  happiness.  Is 
not  that  a  home  in  which  childhood  may  safely  dwell,  if  virtue 
and  strength  abide  there?  Can  such  a  home  be  weakened  or 
destroyed?  Can  it  be  lost,  as  wealth  may  be?  Is  it  not  the 
most  secure  anchorage  and  the  only  refuge  for  the  young? 
Can  the  substantiality  of  wealth  or  position  alone  replace  it? 
Here,  your  honor,  a  phase  of  the  case  presents  itself  that 
I  approach  with  reluctance.  My  brother  lawyer  has  recounted 
the  virtues  of  his  client,  and  to  all  he  says  in  that  respect 
I  cheerfully  subscribe.  I  leave  it  to  candid  men  to  judge, 
however,  which  of  the  two,  Miss  Holmes  or  Mr.  Throckmor- 
ton, is  the  more  likely  to  enlist  the  lad's  sympathy  and  love. 
The  maiden  lady  of  fifty,  a  recluse  upon  her  farm,  without 
knowledge  of  children,  with  a  demeanor  that  cannot,  unhap- 
pily, be  called  inviting,  or  the  young  man,  with  a  warm  heart 
and  blood  still  running  fresh  and  vigorous  along  the  lines  of 
youth  this  child  is  treading,  and  will  for  many  a  day?  Every 
instance,  I  am  constrained  to  believe,  recommends  Mr.  Throck- 
morton in  preference.  He  had  the  mother's  love  and  the 
father's  confidence,  and  he  loved  them  in  return.  Miss 
Holmes,  if  her  heart  responded  to  theirs,  gave  no  sign,  for 
they  died  believing  in  her  indifference,  if  not  her  enmity. 
This  lady  now  seeks  control  of  their  child,  knowing  what  she 
does.  Can  we  have  any  doubt  in  regard  to  the  youth's  feelings 


n6  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

or  preferences?  Nothing,  it  seems  to  me,  could  be  more  inop- 
portune, more  incongruous,  than  Miss  Holmes's  action.  It 
needs  no  great  discernment  on  our  part,  your  honor,  to  trace 
this  lad's  future.  Had  his  father  and  mother  lived,  they  could 
have  controlled  him.  He  would  have  been  obedient  and  pa- 
tient; but  dying,  others  cannot  fill  their  office  unless  he  loves- 
and  trusts  them.  No  one  else  will  he  obey.  That  is  human 
nature;  for  lacking  the  wisdom  that  only  comes  of  experience, 
he  will  revolt  when  discipline  clashes  with  desire;  for  even  in 
the  case  of  men,  you  know,  judgment  and  prudence  travel 
with  halting  step  when  inclination  leads  the  other  way." 

"Nonsense,  you  honor!  What  he  needs  is  a  master  with 
a  good  wrist  and  a  stack  of  rawhides,"  Moth  angrily  inter- 
rupted. "What  would  become  of  the  world  if  such  ideas  were 
to  govern  the  bringing-up  of  children?  Why,  we  would  have 
a  nation  of  bandits,  and  no  man  would  be  safe." 

"Will  you  oblige  me,"  the  justice  objected,  "by  not  inter- 
rupting Mr.  Lincoln  again?" 

"Put  him  in  the  jug,  your  honor,  for  contempt.  He'll  git 
fat  on  the  fare,  an'll  fool  the  rats,  for  they  haven't  any  likin* 
for  bones  if  there  ain't  any  meat  on  'em,"  Blott  spoke  up 
excitedly,  appealing  confidently  to  the  justice. 

"You  may  withdraw,  officer;  we  will  not  need  you  longer. 
I  will  myself  look  after  the  lad,"  the  justice  spoke  up,  scrutin- 
izing Blott's  flushed  face  and  trembling  limbs. 

"All  right,  your  honor,  I'm  glad  to  git  rid  of  the  job;  but 
if  anything  should  turn  up  needin'  somebody  to  handle  Pickle, 
I'm  your  man,  an'll  not  ask  any  fee  either,"  Blott  answered, 
scowling  upon  Moth  as  he  made  his  way  from  the  room. 

"The  heart  of  guardian  and  child  must  be  responsive," 
Mr.  Lincoln  went  on  when  quiet  had  once  more  been  restored; 
"and  can  there  exist  any  bond  of  sympathy  between  Miss 
Holmes  and  this  young  lad?  No.  How  many  wretched  men 
and  women  does  the  world  hold  to-day,  made  so  by  disregard- 
ing truths  of  this  nature !  How  many  are  there  broken  and 
lost  who  might  have  led  useful  lives  but  for  lack  of  a  sympa- 


Before  the  Little  Justice  117 

thetic  heart  in  which  to  confide  when  young!  A  child  bereft, 
as  in  this  case,  is  like  a  man  cast  naked  upon  an  island.  The 
world  it  knew  is  gone,  and  with  it  the  love  that  nourished  its 
life.  It  cannot,  if  it  would,  easily  take  up  with  new  condi- 
tions. Yet  upon  its  being  able  to  do  so  finally  depends  its 
acceptability  and  usefulness  to  society  when  grown  to  manhood. 
Viewing  the  problem  thus,  can  we  conceive  of  any  duty  devolv- 
ing upon  those  who  execute  our  laws  more  delicate,  more  tender 
of  application,  than  the  disposition  of  children  subject  to  their 
control,  a  disposition  so  fraught  with  good  or  bad  to  those 
whom  it  affects?  The  bodies  and  souls  of  those  needlessly 
wrecked  in  youth  because  of  lack  of  conscience  or  care  in  this 
respect  cry  out  against  the  neglect  of  their  just  needs."  Here 
Mr.  Lincoln's  voice  quavered  and  died  away,  as  if  some  black, 
unwholesome  recollection  of  his  own  youth  had  suddenly 
obtruded  itself  across  his  mind.  "To  leave  this  feature  of  the 
case,  however,"  he  went  on,  slowly  and  in  a  low  voice,  "of 
which  I  have,  perhaps,  said  too  much,  what  are  the  rights 
of  the  parties?  For  the  law  is  made  to  protect  every  one,  and 
cannot  be  subverted  now,  more  than  at  another  time,  that  good 
may  possibly  follow.  In  this  case  it  is  clearly  perverted,  for 
there  is  no  just  warrant  for  holding  the  lad.  Of  this  there  can 
be  no  doubt,  though  circumstances  for  the  moment  may  excuse 
it.  The  summons  of  the  proper  court  has  not  been  issued, 
and  only  a  court  of  competent  jurisdiction  can  act  in  its  place. 
I  need  not  point  out,  your  honor,  that  acting  alone  you  pos- 
sess no  authority,  though  conjointly  with  another  justice  you 
might.  Putting  aside  this  feature  of  the  case,  is  there,  I  ask, 
any  call  for  intervention?  I  feel  assured  there  is  not.  The 
happiness  and  well-being  of  the  child  may  safely  be  intrusted 
to  Mr._Throckmorton,  and  sincerely  believing  this,  and  pledg- 
ing you  my  faith  that  it  is  so  as  man  to  man,  I  ask  that  your 
honor  annul  the  order  of  detention  and  let  the  lad  go  free"; 
and  so  concluding,  Mr.  Lincoln  bowed  to  the  magistrate  and 
stepp3d  back. 

"May  I  ask  your  honor,"   he  resumed  after  a  moment, 


n8  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"that  you  will  act  in  the  matter  with  such  promptness  as  'you 
can,  as  we  very  much  desire  to  go  on  by  the  boat  now  about 
to  leave?" 

Moth,  however,  had  no  intention  of  submitting  the  case 
without  further  hearing,  and  pushing  forward,  exclaimed: 

"I  protest,  your  honor,  that  this — "  However,  he  got  no 
further,  his  protest  falling  on  deaf  ears.  For  the  justice  had 
heard  enough,  and  holding  up  his  hand  to  command  silence, 
said: 

"I  have  to  thank  you,  gentlemen,  most  heartily;  and  while 
listening  to  your  statements  have  endeavored  to  weigh  what 
you  have  said  fairly.  My  conclusion  is,  that  I  have  no  right 
to  act  in  the  matter,  and  that  being  so,  the  case  is  dismissed." 

At  this  termination  a  great  silence  fell  on  the  assemblage, 
followed  by  a  shout  of  approval  from  every  one  present;  but 
Mr.  Lincoln,  not  waiting  to  hear  more,  grasped  my  hand,  and 
turning, walked  rapidly  from  the  room. 

Gaining  the  boat,  I  looked  back  to  see  Moth,  who  had  fol- 
lowed, regarding  me  with  such  savage  determination  that 
I  shuddered  at  the  sight,  feeling  that  in  him  I  had  and  should 
ever  have  a  bitter  and  unforgiving  enemy. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE   SINGLETONS 

At  the  time  of  which  I  speak  steam  was  only  just  coming 
into  use  on  the  Mississippi,  and  men  went  far  out  of  their  way 
to  see  the  great  boats  that  plied  back  and  forth,  and  seeing 
them,  stood  spellbound,  as  did  I.  Nor  have  change  and  length- 
ening years  served  in  any  way  to  dull  the  recollection  of  that 
far-off  day.  Every  detail  comes  back  to  me  now;  the  clanging 
bell,  the  hoarse  whistle  sounding  croupily  across  the  water, 
the  great  boat  coming  buoyantly  on,  its  busy  decks,  the  pas- 
sengers standing  by,  the  gurgling  water,  the  swash  of  the 
wheels,  the  rhythmic  music  of  the  exhaust,  the  black  smoke 
trailing  on  behind,  and,  most  striking  of  all — so  simple  are  the 
impressions  of  youth — the  letters  painted  in  vivid  plainness  on 
the  surface  of  the  rounded  wheelhouse.  Naught  is  wanting 
to  complete  the  picture,  and  if  by  chance  some  sound  like  the 
deep  bell  or  croaking  whistle  strikes  on  my  listening  ear,  it 
awakens  afresh  the  scenes  of  that  far-off  time  as  if  they  were 
but  yesterday.  Not,  however,  as  then,  to  thrill  with  ecstasy, 
but  rather  with  pleasurable  melancholy,  like  an  echo  from  the 
past,  so  sad  it  is. 

While  the  boat  was  making  its  way  to  the  channel  of  the 
river,  our  little  party  ascended  the  stairs  which  led  to  the 
saloon  above.  Reaching  the  quarter-deck,  what  was  our  sur- 
prise to  find  Blott  facing  us,  and  unconcernedly,  as  if  knowing 
us  but  casually,  if  at  all.  At  sight  of  him,  Uncle  Job 
stopped  abruptly,  and  after  regarding  him  a  moment,  angrily 
inquired: 

"What  are  you  doing  here,  constable?" 

"I'm  holdin'  down  this  mattin',  an'  as  you've  got  feet, 
119 


I2O  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

s'pose  you  come  an'  help  me,"  Blott  answered,  moving  about 
uneasily  on  the  piece  of  carpet  whereon  he  stood. 

"You  are  following  this  lad  "  Uncle  Job  answered,  paying 
no  attention  to  what  he  said. 

"Now,  don't  lose  yourself,  old  man;  I'm  no  trailer.  Moth 
done  you  dirt,  mebbe,  but  I  never  did  nothin'  to  you,  have  I?" 
he  asked,  facing  us  and  striving  to  appear  calm. 

"Perhaps  not,  but  you  are  here  to  spy  on  us  now." 

"Not  on  your  life;  an'  let  me  advise  you,  my  friend,"  he 
answered,  opening  and  shutting  his  hands  nervously,  "not  to 
use  that  word  too  much  in  this  country,  or  it'll  git  you  into 
trouble.  I'm  no  spy,  least  of  all  for  Pickle." 

"Then  what  are  you  doing  on  this  boat?"  Uncle  Job 
inquired,  by  no  means  convinced  of  the  other's  good  intention. 

"Mebbe  I'm  toorin',  but  I  ain't,"  he  answered,  more 
quietly.  "I'm  doin'  the  disappearin'  act,  though,  an'  to-mor- 
row they'll  be  draggin'  the  river,  I  'spect,  thinkin'  I'm 
drowned." 

"Where  are  you  going?" 

"That's  nothin'  to  you,  but  I  don't  mind  tellin'  now  we're 
off.  I'm  goin'  to  Rock  River,  where  I  fit  Black  Hawk,  to  lie 
on  its  shady  banks  an'  listen  to  the  birds  an'  ripplin'  waters. 
It's  too  noisy  an*  excitin'  here,  an"  people  stare,  for  I've  bin 
seein'  things  that  ain't  real,  they  say — though  you  seed  them 
cats  yourself,  didn't  you?"  he  went  on,  excitedly,  peering  into 
Uncle  Job's  face.  "They  was  as  plain  as  day  to  me." 

"Is  that  all  you  have  seen?"  Uncle  Job  answered,  evasively. 

"No;  monkeys  an*  snakes,  an'  wassops  as  big  as  eagles. 
Things  like  that,  out  of  the  way,  sorty,  but  all  real,  though  it 
seems  queer." 

"Well,  you  know  what  causes  it,"  Uncle  Job  answered. 

"You  bet;  it  comes  from  usin'  toothache  drops  an  ole 
woman  give  me,  filled  with  opium  or  pisen  of  some  sort." 

"Toothache  drops!  Bosh!  It  comes  from  drinking 
whisky." 

"Well,  there's  no  use  disputin'  'bout  it;  but  if  it's  whisky, 


The  Singletons  121 

I'm  all  right,  an'll  git  over  it,  for  I'm  goin'  to  cut  myself 
down,  an'  that  I've  made  up  my  mind  to." 

"Why  don't  you  stop  altogether?"  Uncle  Job  asked. 

"I  can't,  Job;  I'd  rather  fall  ninety-nine  times  than  resist 
oncet.  That's  the  way  I'm  built,  you  see,  an'  it's  no  use 
tryin'." 

"Nonsense!       You  can  stop  if  you  want  to." 

"That's  what  people  say;  but  if  you  had  the  thirst  in  the 
throat  an'  hot  cravin'  an'  crawlin*  in  the  stomach  that  I  have, 
when  the  malary's  comin'  on  an'  the  sky's  red,  an'  you  dasn't 
put  out  the  light,  nor  shut  your  eyes  for  seein'  things  at  night, 
you'd  not  give  it  up.  Nor'll  I,  but  I'm  goin'  to  be  more 
moderate-like."  And  ceasing  to  speak,  he  reached  out  as  if  to 
pick  some  object  from  Uncle  Job's  coat,  but  finding  nothing, 
looked  up  abashed,  and  without  saying  more,  turned  and 
walked  away. 

Thus  reassured  in  some  measure  in  regard  to  Blott's  pur- 
pose, we  went  on  to  the  saloon  of  the  majestic  vessel.  Here 
again  I  live  in  the  memory  of  the  past  and  what  I  saw,  but 
not  without  a  sob  filling  the  throat,  that  it  should  all  have 
proven  so  unreal.  For  it  is  not  what  we  see  as  children,  but 
the  newness  and  strangeness  of  it,  that  causes  our  hearts  to 
beat  and  our  eyes  to  open  with  wonder.  Never  afterward,  and 
that  is  the  pity  of  it,  does  the  splendor  of  real  things  cause  the 
pulse  to  throb  as  do  the  small  things  of  youth.  For  the  vast 
apartment  on  the  threshold  of  which  I  now  stood  seemed  to 
my  inexperienced  eyes  grand  beyond  the  power  of  speech. 
Nor  was  it  cut  off  in  its  limits,  but  reached  away  in  perspec- 
tive like  the  lengthened  glade  of  a  forest — a  forest  wherein 
overhanging  clouds  were  frescoed  with  golden  filigree  and 
glistening  silver,  from  which  descended,  as  if  held  by  out- 
stretched arms,  row  upon  row  of  glistening  chandeliers, 
resplendent  with  radiating  surfaces  and  pendent  crystals. 
Such  was  the  view;  not  cramped  or  confined,  but  reaching  far 
away  and  bathed  in  light  and  soft,  illusive  shadows. 

In  the  center  of  this  vast  room,    tables  succeeded  each 


122  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

other  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  while  on  either  side  chairs 
with  gilded  backs  stretched  away  like  disks  of  beaten  gold. 
Above  these,  and  from  the  borders  of  the  ceiling,  ferns  and 
wild  roses  drooped,  and  beside  them  windows,  half-concealed, 
gave  a  soft  and  glimmering  light,  as  if  the  day  were  just 
beginning.  On  the  sides  of  the  room  there  were  doors  with- 
out number,  of  pearly  white,  inlaid  with  gold,  and  on  the  floor 
crimson  carpets  that  gave  back  no  sound  to  the  footfall  more 
than  the  moss  one  finds  in  the  shadows  of  the  dark  woods. 
Such  things  I  saw,  and  standing,  wondered,  and  there  I  would 
have  stayed;  but  to  those  about  me  it  was  only  commonplace, 
so  quickly  are  our  impressions  dulled  by  use.  So,  with  scarce 
time  to  catch  my  breath  or  give  expression  to  my  thoughts, 
we  hurried  on  to  our  room — and  oh,  its  snugness  and  compact- 
ness! A  playhouse  fit  for  children  indeed,  but  for  bigger  ani- 
mals all  too  small ! 

When  we  emerged  the  great  hall  was  full  of  the  bustle  and 
stir  of  supper,  but  of  this  last  I  remember  only  a  little.  For 
my  mind  was  busy  with  other  thoughts — with  Wild  Plum,  my 
mother,  Constance,  the  forlorn  highwayman,  the  weazen- 
faced  lawyer.  This  so  fully  that  I  scarce  noticed  the  eager 
throng  that  laughed  and  chatted  by  my  side.  When  supper 
was  over,  Uncle  Job  went  forward  to  smoke,  and  I  being  alone, 
set  out  to  explore  the  great  palace,  so  calm  and  steadfast,  yet 
pulsating  as  with  the  breath  of  life.  This  last  in  greater  sem- 
blance of  reality  because  of  the  far-off  sound  of  the  exhaust, 
so  like  a  man  breathing  heavily  in  his  sleep.  Curious  and 
loitering  by  the  way,  I  after  a  while  approached  a  part  of  the 
saloon  set  off  by  a  great  screen.  This  division  I  for  a  time 
respected,  but  presently  reaching  the  barrier,  and  being  curi- 
ous, passed  beyond.  A  group  of  ladies  occupied  the  space 
thus  set  apart,  and  seeing  this,  I  stopped,  and  would  have 
turned  about. 

No  sooner,  however,  did  I  come  into  view  than  one  of  them, 
of  gentle  presence,  detached  herself  from  those  about  her  and 
came  toward  me.  Reaching  the  spot  where  I  stood,  to  my 


The  Singletons  123 

great  amazement,  she  clapped  down  on  me  as  my  mother  was 
wont  to  do.  Folding  me  in  close  embrace  against  her  bosom, 
she  kissed  me  as  if  I  were  her  son,  saying  with  tender  emotion: 

"My  sweet  child!  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you  again,  and  to 
know  you  got  safely  off  from  that  little  dragon  of  a  lawyer. 
I  have  not  thought  of  anything  else  since  I  returned  to  the 
boat,  and  oh,  the  pity  of  it  and  the  pathos  of  the  trial !  I  could 
not  stay  to  see  the  end,  but  still  I  felt  that  no  one,  and  least 
of  all  that  kind-faced  judge,  could  resist  the  adorable  man 
who  pleaded  for  you  as  for  his  son."  Thus  she  went  on,  and 
giving  me  no  chance  to  say  a  word,  led  me  to  a  sofa,  and  draw- 
ing me  to  a  seat  beside  her,  sat  down,  her  arm  about  my  body. 
"Come  now,  my  dear,  tell  me  all  about  yourself  and  your 
Uncle  Job,  and  that  acrid  old  Aunt  Jane,  for  I  know  she  is 
both  old  and  sour." 

"My  aunt's  cold,  madam,  but  she's  more  like  ice  than 
vinegar,"  I  answered,  not  knowing  what  to  say. 

"Because  of  that  you  do  not  love  her?" 

"How  can  I,  for  she  doesn't  love  me  as  my  mother  did." 

"No  one,  my  sweet  child,  ever  will,  save  one,  if  you  are 
lucky.  But  where  do  you  come  from?"  the  lady  went  on,  as 
if  to  make  me  forget  my  unhappy  state. 

"From  Little  Sandy,  madam." 

"How  quaint!  And  who  is  Uncle  Job?  What  a  droll 
name  for  so  sprightly  a  gentleman." 

"He  is  my  mother's  brother,  and  is  to  be  my  guardian,  I  hope." 

"I  hope  so  too,  for  I  am  sure  he  will  be  more  indulgent 
than  the  other;  and  children  do  so  much  need  indulgence," 
she  went  on,  looking  over  at  the  little  group  she  had  just  left. 
"Where  are  you  going?  How  I  wish  you  might  live  near  us! 
I  have  -children  of  my  own,  but  I  am  sure  I  could  love  you 
too" ;  and  with  that  she  bent  over  and  kissed  me  again,  as  my 
mother  might. 

"It  would  be  better  than  I  could  hope,  to  be  near  you,  but 
I  am  glad  I've  seen  you,  anyway,"  I  replied,  returning  her 
caress,  so  gentle  and  kind  were  her  ways. 


124  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"You  have  not  told  me  where  you  are  going.  In  this 
sparsely  settled  country  one  can  never  hope  to  live  near  any- 
body; but  still,"  she  went  on  comfortingly,  "you  might  not  be 
far  away. ' ' 

"I'm  going  to  Appletop,  where  Uncle  Job  lives,  but  I  have 
no  idea  where  it  is,"  I  answered. 

"Why,  that  is  where  we  are  going.  How  fine!  You  will 
be  near  us,  and  can  come  to  me  when  you  want  anything — and 
you  will  come,  anyway,  I  know,  my  dear?"  she  went  on,  press- 
ing her  cheek  against  mine. 

"I  will  indeed,"  I  replied,  scarce  able  to  restrain  my  tears. 

"Well,  now  that  we  are  to  be  neighbors,  I  am  going  to  get 
acquainted  with  your  Uncle  Job,  and  make  him  promise  to 
leave  you  with  me  when  he  is  away.  But  come,  I  want  you  to 
get  acquainted  with  my  children";  and  rising,  she  took  my 
hand  and  led  me  across  the  room  to  the  group  she  had  left 
when  I  entered.  "This  is  the  young  gentleman,  my  dears, 
I  was  telling  you  about  when  he  came  in  just  now,"  and  she 
smiled  as  if  expecting  them  to  be  as  interested  as  herself. 
"This  is  my  daughter  Amelia,  Gilbert,"  she  went  on,  "and 
this  is  Viola,  and  this  is  the  baby,  Betty,  though  she  is  sixteen, 
and  a  pert  miss,  as  you  will  find  out  when  you  come  to  know 
her,"  the  sweet  lady  concluded,  kissing  her  affectionately. 

They  were  all  fine-looking  children,  like  their  mother,  with 
smiling  faces  and  amiable  manners,  having  about  them  the  air 
of  young  people  who  have  no  thought  beyond  the  present. 
Seating  myself,  I  was  overjoyed  at  being  again  in  such 
company:  for,  as  I  may  have  told  you,  I  have  ever  found  my 
greatest  pleasure  in  the  society  of  women.  Seated  thus,  it 
seemed  a  long  time  since  I  had  felt  the  fragrance  of  their 
presence  or  listened  to  their  gentle  talk.  Thus  I  was  in  the 
mood,  ever  more  common  to  me  than  any  other,  to  sit  without 
speaking,  and  watch  the  faces  of  the  dear  creatures,  and  smile 
back  my  heart's  response  to  their  sweet  ways  and  pretty 
speeches. 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

THE   SHADOWS  OF   LIFE 

While  occupied  in  the  agreeable  manner  I  have  described, 
our  little  group  was  joined  by  a  gentleman  whom  the  lady 
welcomed  as  if  he  were  a  brother  or  dear  friend — and  not  too 
heartily,  I  thought,  for  his  person  and  manner  were  engaging 
in  the  extreme,  and  such  as  to  attract  and  hold  the  attention 
of  any  one.  Of  commanding  presence,  and  full  of  the  glow 
and  fire  of  life,  his  years  sat  so  lightly  upon  him  that  he  seemed 
only  to  have  reached  manhood,  though  he  was  in  reality  quite 
thirty  years  of  age.  Calling  him  to  take  a  place  by  her  side, 
he  responded  with  pleasure,  his  high  and  noble  features  light- 
ing up  in  response  to  her  salutation  and  those  of  her  children 
with  so  much  animation  and  kindness  that  I  was  at  once  cap- 
tivated by  him,  as  in  the  case  of  Mr.  Lincoln.  When  he  was 
seated,  Mrs.  Singleton  spoke  up,  without  preface  of  any  kind, 
as  was  her  way: 

"Oh,  Jefferson,  I  have  had  the  queerest  adventure!  Some- 
thing like  a  play  at  the  theater,  only  a  hundred  times  more 
exciting." 

"Indeed,"  he  answered,  encouragingly. 

"A  play  wherein  a  little  tigerish  lawyer  sought  to  carry  off 
a  child.  Without  avail,  though,  for  he  was  beaten  off  finally 
by  a  melancholy  knight  who  appeared  suddenly  on  the  scene, 
to  the  great  joy  of  those  who  were  looking  on,"  the  lady  con- 
cluded- with  rising  voice. 

"I  am  sure  it  must  have  been  interesting,"  he  answered. 
"Pray(  tell  me  about  it." 

"Yes,  it  was  interesting,  and  something  more  than  that. 
I  was  shopping,  you  must  know,  while  the  boat  waited  at 
125 


126  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

Quincy,  and  in  the  most  accidental  way  ran  across  the  trial. 
The  quaintest  thing  it  was,  too,  that  any  one  ever  heard  of. 
It  was  before  a  little  justice,  in  the  back  part  of  his  store,  and 
all  about  the  possession  of  this  young  gentleman,"  she  went 
on,  laying  her  hand  on  mine,  "who  was  being  fought  over  by 
his  Uncle  Job,  a  fair-spoken  young  man,  on  one  side,  and  a 
little  dragon  of  a  lawyer,  who  moved  about  like  a  hawk  hover- 
ing over  a  brood  of  chickens.  Oh,  you  should  have  seen  him!" 

"He  was  put  to  rout,  though,  finally,  as  you  say?"  the  gen- 
tleman responded,  smilingly. 

"Yes;  and  in  the  end  the  good  fairy  carried  off  the  child  in 
triumph,  as  it  does  in  the  story-book." 

"It  must  have  been  a  sight  worth  seeing,"  he  answered. 

"Indeed  it  was.  When  the  trial  was  going  on  you  could 
have  cried  out  with  pain  and  rage,  but  not  have  laughed  to 
save  your  life,  it  was  so  pitiable.  It  was  grand,  too;  and  what 
made  it  so  was  the  presence  of  the  sublime  man  who  pleaded 
for  the  child — did  he  come  on  with  you,  Gilbert,  the  lawyer, 
I  mean,  who  defended  you?"  the  good  lady  stopped  abruptly 
to  inquire. 

"Yes,  madam." 

"Well,  Jefferson,  you  must  hunt  him  up,  for  to  know  such 
a  man  is  an  inheritance  in  itself,  he  has  such  gentleness  and 
wisdom;  and  oh,  the  pathos  and  mournful  sweetness  of  his 
speech!  His  knowledge  of  mankind,  and  of  children  most, 
I  would  never  have  believed  any  one  could  possess — and  he  so 
young,  too";  and  the  lady  stopped  as  if  to  conjure  up  anew 
the  tall  figure  and  melancholy  face  of  Mr.  Lincoln.  "When 
he  pleaded  for  his  little  friend,  such  sweetness  of  soul  and 
honesty  of  heart  shone  in  his  face  and  lighted  up  his  eyes  that 
I  know  I  shall  never  see  the  like  of  it  again.  Oh,  you  must 
know  him,  Jefferson,  indeed  you  must!" 

"I  am  sure  it  will  be  a  pleasure,  after  what  you  have  said," 
he  replied.  "But  what  is  the  name  of  the  gentleman?  Surely 
such  a  man  must  be  well  known." 

"No,  I  think  not,  for  he  is  only  a  young  lawyer  making  his 


The  Shadows  of  Life  127 

way.  I  inquired  his  name  in  the  store  as  I  came  out,  and 
they  told  me  it  was  Abraham  Lincoln.  Is  that  it,  Gilbert?" 
she  asked,  turning  to  me. 

"Yes,  madam;  and  except  for  him  I  should  have  been  lost, 
I  know,"  I  answered,  remembering  the  desperate  strait  I  was 
in  when  he  came  forward  to  plead  my  cause. 

"That  you  would;  but  his  benignity  of  manner  and  ingenu- 
ous truthfulness  of  speech  no  one  could  resist.  His  voice, 
Jefferson,  was  filled  with  such  sweet  melancholy  that  I  could 
not  listen  without  my  eyes  filling  with  tears.  Oh,  I  could  be 
enthusiastic  in  his  praise  if  such  a  thing  were  possible  to  me," 
the  good  lady  concluded,  with  a  sigh. 

At  this  reference,  the  gentleman's  eyes  wavered  for  a  mo- 
ment and  filled  with  mirth,  but  respecting  her  kind  heart  and 
the  intuition  women  have  of  men,  he  answered,  soberly  enough: 

"I  know  Mr.  Lincoln,  or  did  at  one  time,  for  he  was  with 
General  Gaines  in  Black  Hawk's  war,  and  commanded  a  com- 
pany of  Illinois  troops." 

"Indeed!"  Mrs.  Singleton  responded. 

"Yes;  and  he  was  much  commended,  I  remember,  for  his 
tact  and  courage." 

"I  can  well  believe  it;  but  you  were  yourself  in  that  war, 
Jefferson?" 

"Yes." 

"Your  dear  wife,  I  remember,  never  tired  of  telling  of  the 
years  of  peril  you  passed  among  the  Indians  in  this  far-off 
country.  Surely,  such  wisdom  and  courage  in  a  mere  lad  would 
have  made  a  great  name  had  you  stayed  in  the  army." 

"It  is  very  kind  of  you  to  say  so,  but  I  was  only  one  of 
many  who  risked  their  lives  similarly  in  the  uprisings  and 
ambus_cades  of  the  Indians." 

"Yet  you  have  always  been  friendly  inclined  toward  them?" 

"Yes,  their  cause  has  always  appealed  to  me;  nor  was  the 
danger  ever  sufficient  to  efface  it  from  my  heart." 

"Their  wars  have  been  so  cruel,  though,  Jefferson." 
'They   fight   in    the   way   they   have    been    taught,"    he 


128  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

answered,  gravely,  "and  for  their  homes,  as  white  men  do  and 
will.  Their  love  of  country  is  not  less  than  that  of  our  race, 
and  greater,  maybe,  for  they  live  in  its  very  bosom.  Every- 
thing they  treasure  is  threatened  by  the  inroad  of  the  whites, 
and  has  been  from  the  beginning,  the  waves  rolling  on  and 
over  them  like  a  cruel  sea  from  which  they  cannot  escape. 
They  have  sought  to  check  or  stay  them,  but  only  here  and 
there  have  they  been  successful,  and  then  only  for  a  moment. 
Their  fate  is  pathetic,  and  such,  it  seems  to  me,  as  to  make 
men  cry  out.  Brave  and  lost  souls,  they  are  like  little  children, 
made  old  and  savage  by  the  subtlety  of  the  whites  and  our 
disregard  of  plighted  faith." 

"Why  did  you  quit  the  service,  Jefferson?  Surely  it  was 
a  great  loss  to  our  country,"  she  went  on,  as  was  her  way, 
without  stopping  to  give  him  time  to  reply;  "and  how  does  it 
happen  that  you  come  back  here?  Some  speculation,  I 
suppose,  for  I  hear  the  country  is  full  of  opportunities  of  that 
kind." 

"No,  madam;  I  am  on  my  way  to  Dubuque  to  adjust  the 
claim  of  a  poor  man  who  is  kept  out  of  his  rights,  partly  by 
reason  of  my  action  while  in  the  service,"  he  answered,  simply. 

"Pray  tell  me  about  it,"   Mrs.  Singleton  asked. 

"There  is  little  to  tell.  When  I  was  in  the  service  the 
government  sent  me  to  Dubuque  with  troops  to  remove  the 
miners  who  had  established  claims  there  in  advance  of  an 
understanding  with  the  Indians,  and  who,  up  to  that  time,  had 
obstinately  refused  to  move." 

"Did  you  succeed?"  Mrs.  Singleton  interrupted. 

"Yes;  partly  by  show  of  force  and  partly  by  persuasion, 
they  were  in  the  end  prevailed  upon  to  withdraw,  but  only  on 
my  pledging  my  word  of  honor  that  I  would  see  to  it  finally 
that  every  man  was  reinstated  in  his  claim." 

"Has  not  this  been  done?" 

"Yes,  except  in  the  case  of  one  man,  and  it  is  to  aid  in 
reinstating  him  that  I  am  now  on  my  way  to  Dubuque." 

"Have  you  come  all  the  way  from  your  home  in  Mississippi 


The  Shadows  of  Life  129 

to  do  this?"  Mrs.  Singleton  asked,  half  incredulously,  and  yet 
with  a  note  of  admiration  and  believing  in  her  voice. 

"Yes;  there  was  no  other  way,"  he  answered  simply. 

"Oh,  happy  the  cause,  whatever  it  may  be,  that  such  men 
serve!"  she  answered,  glancing  at  him  with  the  pride  women 
ever  feel  in  the  honor  of  men.  "Surely,  something  great  must 
be  in  store  for  one  so  brave  and  just  and  truly  honorable." 

"I  have  no  thought  of  greatness,  dear  madam,  but  live  on 
my  plantation,  busied  with  its  small  affairs,  and  the  sad 
thoughts  that  fill  my  mind  of  her  I  lost,"  he  answered,  his, 
face  clouding. 

For  a  time  nothing  further  was  said,  but  after  a  while,  look- 
ing up,  he  continued,  curiosity  and  interest  showing  in  his 
face:  "How  does  it  happen,  Mrs.  Singleton,  if  I  may  ask,  that 
I  find  you  and  all  your  belongings  in  this  far-off  land?  What 
was  it  that  tore  you  up  by  the  roots,  to  transplant  you  to  this 
savage  country?  Surely,  you  had  no  thought  of  leaving  Mis- 
sissippi when  I  saw  you  last." 

"In  that  you  are  mistaken,  Jefferson,  for  we  have  always 
looked  forward  to  such  a  thing,  but  not  to  speak  of  it,  except 
among  ourselves.  It  dates  back,  indeed,  to  a  time  long  before 
John  and  I  were  married,"  the  lady  answered;  and  here,  at 
mention  of  her  husband,  her  face  suddenly  became  overcast, 
as  one  awakened  from  some  pleasant  dream  to  find  a  world 
full  of  worry  and  unhappiness. 

"I  do  not  understand,  but  perhaps  you  do  not  care  to  speak 
of  it,"  he  answered,  as  if  puzzled  by  her  manner  and  disturbed 
look. 

"No,  there  is  nothing  to  hide.  Our  leaving  grew  out  of 
an  intolerable  dislike  of  the  surroundings  of  my  home  life  that 
I  had  when  a  girl.  I  need  not  tell  you  what  it  was.  Perhaps 
I  was  not  justified,  but  when  John  asked  me  to  marry  him 
I  refused  unless  he  would  come  North.  How  could  he,  though? 
He  had  his  father's  plantation  and  the  care  of  its  slaves;  and 
so  he  pleaded  with  me,  but  though  I  loved  him,  I  would  not 
yield.  Thus  weeks  and  months  passed,  he  urging  and  I  refus- 


130  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

ing,  always  with  tears.  Finally  my  mother,  who  knew  of  my 
reasons  and  how  firmly  I  could  cling  to  them,  thought  of  a  way 
out  of  our  trouble.  It  was  this :  We  were  to  marry  and  con- 
tinue on,  but  if  we  had  children,  so  she  planned,  we  were, 
before  any  of  them  came  of  age,  to  leave  the  South  and  come 
North.  To  this  we  agreed,  and  gladly,  for  we  loved  each  other 
devotedly,  as  we  have  to  this  day  and  will  to  the  end."  Here 
stopping,  her  face  clouded  again,  as  if  some  dire  thought 
obtruded  itself  upon  her  to  disturb  her  happiness  and  peace 
of  mind. 

"How  strange;  and  yet  I  do  not  know  that  I  should  say 
that,"  he  answered,  after  a  while,  "for  others  have  done  the 
same  before  and  will  probably  to  the  end";  and  ceasing  to 
speak,  his  face  showed  in  its  lowering  depths  a  trace  of  fear 
as  of  a  vision  of  some  far-off  time  when  a  nation  should  look 
upon  slavery  with  her  eyes  and  stand  firm  as  she  had  stood. 
"Are  you  satisfied  you  have  acted  for  the  best?"  he  went  on 
presently.  "Your  daughters  wilt  find  the  new  life  far  different 
from  the  old,  I  fear. ' ' 

At  this  reference  Mrs.  Singleton  turned  to  her  children, 
but  they  had  long  since  gone  to  some  other  part  of  the  boat. 
Facing  her  companion  again,  her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  which 
she  sought  in  vain  to  restrain;  and  seeing  this  and  her  deep 
agitation,  I  made  as  if  I  would  go,  but  looking  at  me,  she 
invited  me  to  remain.  Whether  it  was  she  felt  the  need  of  so 
soft  a  creature  as  I,  or  for  some  other  reason,  I  know  not,  but 
plainly  she  asked  me  by  her  look  to  stay,  and  so  believing, 
I  sat  still. 

"I  am  not  disturbed  by  that,  Jefferson,"  she  went  on. 
""Their  new  life  will  give  them  self-reliance  and  strength. 
The  hardships,  I  care  nothing  for.  Besides,  we  were  prepared 
to  meet  and  lessen  these,  but  it  is  in  this  that  all  my  expecta- 
tions have  gone  astray,"  the  good  lady  concluded,  sobs  chok- 
ing her  utterance. 

"In  what  way,  madam,  may  I  ask,  if  I  do  not  obtrude  myself 
upon  you?"  he  asked,  with  the  affection  a  son  might  show. 


The  Shadows  of  Life  131 

"Oh,  can  I  tell  you,  or  ought  I  to!  Yet  every  one  will 
know  it  soon.  Yes,  I  must  and  will,  and  oh,  Jefferson, 
I  beseech  you,  for  the  love  our  families  have  borne  each  other' 
for  a  hundred  years,  save  my  husband!  save  him  from  him- 
self!" Saying  which,  she  arose  and  threw  herself  on  her 
knees  before  him,  tears  streaming  in  torrents  down  her  sad 
face. 

"My  God,  madam,  rise,  I  beg  of  you!"  he  answered,  lift- 
ing her  up.  "What  danger  menaces  him?  You  know  I  would 
risk  my  life  to  save  you  or  your  family!  I  have  not  seen  Mr. 
Singleton  since  I  came  aboard.  What  is  the  matter,  and  how 
can  I  serve  him  or  you?"  he  concluded,  his  voice  agitated  so 
as  to  be  hardly  distinguishable. 

"John  has  always  been  a  devoted  husband,  and  in  every- 
thing regardful  of  me  and  our  children,  until  the  last  few  days. 
Now  he  is  no  longer  himself,"  she  answered,  striving  to  con- 
trol her  emotion.  "He  has  changed  in  everything.  A  demon 
has  possession  of  him,  follows  him,  tempts  him,  lures  him  on 
and  on — in  the  morning,  in  the  afternoon,  in  the  night,  never 
leaving  him.  Oh,  my  poor  John!  He  has  scarce  spoken 
a  word  to  me  since  we  started.  Save  him,  Jefferson,  save  him 
from  the  wretch  who  is  ruining  him  body  and  soul!  Surely 
men  ought  not  to  stand  by  and  see  such  things.  Oh,  my  poor 
husband!  my  poor  children!"  the1  lady  concluded,  burying  her 
tear-stained  face  in  her  hands. 

"Pray  be  calm,  madam,  I  beseech  you,  and  tell  me  what 
is  the  matter,  and  how  I  can  aid  you." 

"It  is  all  on  account  of  our  neighbor,  Colonel  Burke,  whom 
you  know,  and  who,  under  the  guise  of  being  a  planter  and 
a  gentleman,  lives  only  to  rob  those  he  can  tempt  or  deceive." 

"Yes,  I  know  him.  All  he  has  he  has  acquired  by  gam- 
bling and  trickery;  but  I  thought  he  had  left  our  country." 

"He  did,  but  only  to  return,  and  knowing  John  had  every- 
thing we  have  in  the  world  about  him,  found  excuse  to  travel 
on  the  same  boat  with  us,  and  from  the  first  has  lured  him 
on  to  play.  John,  poor  man,  losing  each  day,  yet  hoping  to 


132  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

regain  his  losses,  has  kept  on  till  now  our  fortune  is  all  but 
swallowed  up,  if  indeed  it  is  not  wholly  gone.  Oh,  save 
him,  I  beseech  you,  Jefferson,  for  the  honor  of  men  and  the 
happiness  of  my  poor  children. "  Saying  which,  Mrs.  Singleton 
pressed  her  hands  to  her  face  in  agony  of  shame  and  grief. 

"What  you  have  told  me,  dear  madam,  surprises  and  dis- 
tresses me  beyond  anything  I  can  say;  but  rest  assured,  if  it 
is  possible  to  save  your  husband  and  break  the  man  who  has 
entrapped  him  it  shall  be  done,"  he  answered,  rising  to  his  feet. 
Then  taking  Mrs.  Singleton's  hand,  he  bowed  over  it  with 
such  courtesy  and  gentle  tenderness  that  his  manner,  I  thought, 
was  in  all  things  like  that  which  characterized  and  set  apart 
Mr.  Lincoln  from  other  men. 

When  he  had  taken  his  departure,  which  he  did  without 
delay,  overcome  with  emotion  I  put  my  arms  about  the  dear 
lady,  as  if  I  might  thus  comfort  and  shield  her.  Some  grain 
ot  sense,  however,  returning  to  me  presently,  I  kissed  her 
as  I  would  my  mother  or  Constance,  and  bidding  her  good 
night  set  out  to  find  Uncle  Job.  Coming  across  that  amiable 
gentleman  in  another  part  of  the  boat,  I  asked  him  to  go  with 
me,  and  this  he  did,  but  with  some  surprise,  because  of  my 
abruptness  of  speech  and  the  scant  ceremony  I  showed.  Tak- 
ing hold  of  his  hand,  I  led  him  to  the  upper  deck,  where  we 
found  ourselves  alone,  save  for  Mr.  Lincoln,  who  was  walking 
back  and  forth  in  deep  thought.  Seeing  us,  he  came  forward, 
and  after  a  few  words  we  all  sat  down  on  a  bench  that  stood  near 
by.  Then,  without  delay  or  any  kind  of  preface,  I  told  them 
of  the  kindness  Mrs.  Singleton  had  shown  me,  and  the  deep 
trouble  she  was  in  and  the  cause  of  it,  not  leaving  out  a  thing. 
My  story,  I  must  believe,  lost  nothing  in  the  telling,  for  they 
gave  me  rapt  attention,  and  when  I  had  finished  I  sprang  up, 
crying  out,  without  giving  them  time  to  speak: 

"You  will  help  her,  Uncle  Job,  I  know;  and  please  come 
with  me  now,  and  I'll  take  you  to  the  gentleman  who's  prom- 
ised to  save  her  husband." 

At  this,  and  without  a  word  being  said,  they  arose  and  fol- 


The  Shadows  of  Life  133 

lowed  me.  When  we  reached  the  great  saloon  the  gentleman 
I  sought  stood  apart,  watching  two  men  at  play.  Glancing 
in  their  direction,  I  saw  Mr.  Singleton,  and  of  this  I  was  sure, 
for  such  anguish  I  never  saw  in  man's  face  before.  His  com- 
panion, on  the  contrary,  nowise  disturbed,  sat  back  at  his 
ease,  and  with  an  air  of  being  bored;  but  this  was  his  mask, 
as  it  is  of  all  men  in  similar  cases.  Going  up  to  the  gentleman 
I  sought,  I  plucked  his  arm,  and  upon  his  turning  about,  said : 

"This  is  my  Uncle  Job,  and  this  is  Mr.  Lincoln,  about 
whom  Mrs.  Singleton  spoke.  Uncle  Job'll  be  glad  to  help  you 
save  her  husband,  I  know." 

"I  am  glad  to  meet  you,  gentlemen,"  he  responded, 
politely,  greatly  taken  back  it  was  apparent  by  what  I  said. 

"I  had  not  thought  of  calling  any  one  to  my  assistance," 
he  went  on,  after  a  moment's  pause,  "nor  do  I  know  that  any- 
thing can  be  done,  but  it  is  kind  of  you  to  make  the  offer,  and 
I  thank  you  with  all  my  heart." 

44 1  am  glad  to  place  myself  at  your  disposal,  as  my  nephew 
says,  if  I  can  be  of  service  to  you  in  any  way,"  Uncle  Job 
responded. 

"Thank  you,"  the  other  replied.  Then  turning,  he 
extended  his  hand  to  Mr.  Lincoln,  saying:  "I  feel  it  a  happi- 
ness and  an  honor  to  know  you,  Mr.  Lincoln.  My  good 
friend,  Mrs.  Singleton,  who  heard  you  plead  for  our  young 
friend  here,  is  so  filled  with  admiration  at  what  she  esteems 
your  greatness  of  soul  that  she  cannot  find  words  to  express 
her  thoughts.  Let  me  make  myself  known  to  you,  however. 
My  name  is  Jefferson  Davis,  and  as  you  may  perhaps  remem- 
ber, Mr.  Lincoln,  I  served  with  you  in  the  Black  Hawk  war." 

"I  remember  your  service  in  that  war  very  well,  and  before 
and  af-ter,"  Mr.  Lincoln  answered,  grasping  Mr.  Davis's  hand. 
"It  is  the  common  property  of  our  state,  I  may  say,  and  for 
it  you  have  the  love  and  gratitude  of  our  people,  whom  you  so 
faithfully  served.  I  am  glad  indeed  of  the  opportunity  to 
meet  you  again,  and  to  be  able  to  express  some  part  of  the 
obligation  we  are  under  for  your  services. "  Here,  stopping, 


134  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

Mr.  Lincoln  by  some  chance  looked  down  at  me,  and  seeing 
the  distressed  look  in  my  face,  went  on:  "Now,  if  you  will 
excuse  me,  let  us  take  up  the  matter  about  which  Gilbert  has 
told  us,  not  idly,  but  with  a  desire  to  aid  the  lady  who  has 
enlisted  his  sympathy.  If  Mr.  Throckmorton  or  I  can  serve 
you  in  any  way,  Mr.  Davis,  please  command  us." 

"Surely,  sir,  this  lady's  distress  appeals  to  us  as  strongly 
as  if  we  saw  her  being  robbed  by  footpads  on  the  open  high- 
way," Uncle  Job  spoke  up  with  great  energy;  "and  I  wish  to 
place  myself  at  your  service,  Mr.  Davis,  to  throw  the  scoundrel 
overboard  or  horsewhip  him,  it  doesn't  matter  which." 

"Thank  you,  gentlemen.  Our  common  manhood  is  con- 
cerned in  the  matter,  however  distasteful  it  is.  I  hope  we 
may  be  able  to  hit  upon  some  means  of  saving  Singleton  and 
the  fortune  that  is  the  mainstay  of  his  wife  and  children,  for 
they  will  be  helpless  without  it.  This  place  is  too  public, 
however,  to  discuss  such  a  matter,  and  if  you  will  come  to  my 
room  we  can  talk  it  over  there  more  freely." 

Mr.  Lincoln  and  Uncle  Job  assenting,  they  went  away, 
leaving  me  alone.  When  they  were  gone,  I  turned  again  to 
the  players,  but  after  watching  them  for  a  while,  feeling  tired, 
sought  my  bed,  where  I  was  soon  lost  in  the  dreamless  sleep 
of  youth. 


CHAPTER   XIX 

THE   DUEL 

In  the  early  history  of  travel  on  the  great  river,  gambling- 
was  common,  and  nothing  thought  of  it  more  than  eating  and 
drinking.  When,  therefore,  breakfast  was  over  the  following 
morning,  the  gentlemen,  who  stood  about  in  expectant  groups, 
sat  down  to  play,  and  from  that  time  on,  except  when  meals 
were  served,  there  was  little  or  no  diminution  of  the  game. 
Throughout  the  day  and  far  into  the  night  the  play  went  on, 
sometimes  with  uproar  and  curses  and  show  of  pistols  and  huge 
bowie-knives,  but  more  often  without  speech  or  movement  of 
any  kind.  Around  each  group  lookers-on  gathered,  but 
quietly,  refraining  from  so  much  as  touching  the  chairs  of  play- 
ers, lest  the  latter  be  unlucky  in  consequence.  Many  had 
charms,  according  to  their  fancy:  one  a  hawk's  bill,  another 
a  mildewed  penny,  another  the  toenail  of  a  murderer;  but 
above  all  other  things,  a  rabbit's  foot  was  thought  to  be  most 
efficacious  for  bringing  good  luck.  When  these  devices  failed, 
new  cards  were  called  for,  or  men  exchanged  seats,  no  means 
being  left  untried  to  propitiate  the  goddess  of  good  fortune. 
In  such  simple  ways  as  these  are  the  minds  of  gamesters  sus- 
tained and  diverted,  not  here  or  there  only,  but  the  world  over. 

Of  the  players,  some  had  the  semblance  of  calmness,  others 
were  irritable,  some  truculent;  all  observant.  The  panther 
about  to  spring  upon  his  prey  could  not  be  more  watchful  or 
less  pitying.  The  game  was  always  the  same — poker;  and 
if  by  chance  a  chair  was  vacated,  it  was  quickly  filled  by 
another,  so  that  there  was  never  any  falling  off  in  number  or 
interest.  The  players  were  one  and  all  oblivious  of  their  sur- 
roundings, or  if  the  passing  of  a  boat  or  other  happening 


136  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

caused  an  idle  craning  of  the  neck,  it  was  without  interest  or 
consciousness.  Lust  of  money  lighted  up  every  countenance, 
and  in  this  there  was  no  difference.  Those  who  lost  were 
morose,  some  profane;  others,  half-crazed,  cried  out  pitifully, 
like  children.  All,  however,  were  alike  anxious  and  resentful. 
Those  who  won  were  less  repulsive  than  the  others,  but  not 
less  greedy,  reaching  out  for  their  winnings  with  glistening 
«yes  and  soft  chucklings,  sometimes  with  boisterous  hilarity, 
for  flesh  and  blood  cannot  stand  everything.  A  glance  told 
who  were  winners,  who  losers;  wrinkled  foreheads  and  anxious 
faces,  oftentimes  trembling  hands,  marking  the  latter.  With 
the  former  there  was  a  certain  comfort  of  ease,  but  they  were 
not  the  less  alert  and  watchful,  lest  opportunity  for  gain  should 
pass  unnoticed.  Avarice  here  made  no  effort  to  conceal  its 
ugliness,  but  stood  without  garments,  shameless  and  uncon- 
fused,  striving  by  cunning  and  bravado,  or  the  mere  act  of 
waiting  and  watching,  to  satisfy  its  cravings.  This  not 
strangely,  for  such  is  ever  the  case  where  money  is  at  stake, 
though  the  novelty  of  the  situation  and  the  tenderness  of 
men's  hearts  may  rob  the  practice  of  its  repulsive  features  in 
the  case  of  gentlemen  and  novices. 

My  interest,  however,  was  not  with  the  throng,  but  with 
Mr.  Singleton  and  Burke,  and  these  I  singled  out  and  watched, 
as  they  sat  somewhat  apart,  and  doing  so,  meditated  many 
•evil  things  against  the  latter,  but  unavailingly.  As  the  game 
went  on,  Mr.  Singleton  from  time  to  time  took  papers  from 
his  pocket  and  handed  them  to  Burke,  for  which  the  latter 
gave  him  money  in  exchange.  All  the  while  the  poor  gentle- 
man lost,  and  this  until  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  when, 
with  an  oath,  he  pushed  all  there  was  before  him  into  the 
middle  of  the  table.  Burke,  after  a  while,  and  as  if  hesitating, 
put  up  a  like  amount.  Then  the  end  came.  Singleton  had 
lost.  At  this  he  sat  rigid,  staring  before  him,  while  I,  standing 
by,  counted  the  exhaust  of  the  boat  as  if  it  were  the  pulsations 
of  his  life.  At  last,  catching  his  throat  as  if  choking,  striving 
the  while  to  appear  calm,  he  exclaimed: 


The  Duel  137 

"You  have  won,  Burke;  that  is  all.  I  am  ruined,  and  can 
play  no  more. " 

Upon  this,  Burke,  drawing  the  money  toward  him,  answered 
in  a  soft,  purring  voice,  as  if  surprised  at  what  he  heard : 

"I  am  sorry,  Singleton;  but  I  have  won  honestly,  you  will 
admit." 

To  this  the  other  made  no  answer,  but  after  a  moment 
dropped  his  face  on  his  arms  as  they  lay  extended  on  the  table 
before  him. 

At  this  ending,  Mr.  Davis,  who  stood  back  of  Mr.  Single- 
ton, leaned  forward,  and  looking  Burke  coldly  in  the  face, 
said,  in  a  voice  so  low  that  it  was  scarce  audible : 

"You  are  not  sorry,  Colonel  Burke,  but  have  overreached 
Singleton,  and  because  of  it,  should  return  every  dollar  you 
have  won." 

"I  have  won  fairly;  it  is  mine,  and  I  will  return  nothing," 
Burke  answered,  looking  up  surprised  at  what  the  other  said. 

"You  have  not  won  honestly,  and  I  must  insist  that  you 
return  the  money  as  I  say,"  Mr.  Davis  answered,  calmly. 

"Not  a  cent;  not  to  save  his  life,"  Burke  answered, 
scowling. 

"Yes,  you  will.  You  have  cheated  him,  as  you  have  others; 
and  it  is  not  strange,  either,  for  while  professing  to  be  a  gen- 
tleman, you  are  nothing  but  a  common  thief  and  blackguard, 
and  as  such  I  shall  brand  you  publicly,  so  that  the  gentlemen 
of  my  country  may  hereafter  know  you  for  what  you  are." 

Astonished  beyond  measure  at  what  Mr.  Davis  said,  Burke 
fell  to  trembling  as  if  stricken  with  palsy;  but  after  a  while,  his 
face  darkening,  he  gathered  himself  together,  exclaiming: 

"You  lie,  sir,  if  you  say  I  have  cheated  Singleton";  and 
with  th.e  words  he  drew  a  pistol,  and  would  have  killed  Mr. 
Davis  had  not  Uncle  Job  restrained  him. 

"You  are  not  only  a  cheat,  but  an  assassin,  and  would  kill 
me  without  a  chance  to  defend  myself,  as  you  have  more  than 
one  of  my  friends.  You  are  a  coward,  and  would  not  think 
of  resenting  what  I  say  unless  opportunity  offered  to  assas- 


138  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

sinate  me,"  Mr.  Davis  answered,  looking  Burke  in  the  face, 
but  without  moving  or  raising  his  voice. 

"You  lie!"  Burke  answered,  striving  to  raise  his  weapon; 
but  Uncle  Job  preventing,  took  it  from  him,  saying  soothingly, 
and  with  a  fine  air  of  cheerfulness: 

"You  must  not  kill  him  in  that  way,  Colonel,  if  you  do  not 
care  to  give  up  the  money,  but  make  him  answer  for  his  words 
as  gentlemen  are  expected  to  do  when  they  say  aught  against 
another.  He  is  bound  to  give  you  satisfaction,  bound  to 
Colonel.  Excuse  me,"  he  went  on,  in  answer  to  Burke's  look 
of  surprise,  "if  I  am  meddling  in  a  matter  that  does  not  con- 
cern me,  but  I  can't  stand  by  and  see  a  man  thus  insulted. 
You  must  call  him  out;  it  will  not  cause  you  any  trouble  after- 
ward." 

"He  will  not  call  me  out,  nor  do  I  care  to  meet  him,"  Mr. 
Davis  answered,  coldly.  "All  I  ask  is  that  he  return  the 
money  he  has  taken  from  this  poor  gentleman,  or  even  half 
of  it,  if  he  will  not  pay  back  the  whole." 

"I'll  not  pay  back  a  cent,  and  you  lie  if  you  say  I  will 
not  call  you  out!  I  will,  and  kill  you,  as  sure  as  there  is  a  God 
in  heaven!  I  only  wish  there  was  opportunity, "  Burke  replied, 
rising  to  his  feet,  his  rage  passing  all  bounds. 

"You  will  not  lack  opportunity,  Colonel  Burke,  for  here  it 
is,"  Mr.  Davis  replied,  his  high  courage  flaming  up.  "The 
boat  is  slowing  up  for  wood,  and  the  country  about  hidden 
with  trees,  so  we  can  settle  our  affair  without  interference, 
or  its  coming  to  the  knowledge  of  any  one,  if  you  are  not 
inclined  to  return  Singleton's  money."  Burke  making  no 
response  to  this,  Mr.  Davis  presently  went  on:  "Come,  then, 
if  you  have  the  courage,  which  I  doubt,"  saying  which  he 
turned  toward  the  forward  part  of  the  boat,  Uncle  Job  remark- 
ing so  that  both  could  hear: 

"Go  on,  Mr.  Davis;  I  will  attend  to  the  details  of  the 
meeting." 

This  near  prospect  seemed  not  at  all  to  Colonel  Burke's 
taste,  and  he  would  have  held  back,  but  Uncle  Job  taking  his 


The  Duel  139 

arm  and  urging  him  to  protect  his  honor,  partly  by  pushing 
and  partly  by  coaxing,  prevailed  on  him  at  last  to  follow  Mr. 
Davis,  who-had  now  been  joined  by  Mr.  Lincoln. 

All  this  time  Mr.  Singleton  had  not  stirred,  but  lay  as  if 
fallen  in  a  fit.  Nor  did  he  make  any  sign  of  life  as  we  moved 
away;  for  I  followed  on,  though  some  way  off,  determined  to 
see  the  end  of  it.  Passing  the  crew,  who  were  loading  wood 
amid  the  cries  and  curses  of  the  mate,  Mr.  Davis  struck  into 
the  forest,  the  others  following.  In  this  way,  coming  presently 
upon  a  cleared  spot,  he  stopped,  saying: 

"This  place  will  do.  Mr.  Lincoln,  will  you  favor  me  by 
acting  with  Mr.  Throckmorton,  should  he  require  assist- 
ance?" 

"Certainly,  I  will  be  glad  to  serve  you  in  any  way  I  can, 
Mr.  Davis,  though  this  is  something  new  to  me,"  Mr.  Lincoln 
answered,  in  a  kindly  voice,  but  without  any  enthusiasm 
whatever. 

"It  is  new  to  me,  and  distasteful  and  nowise  expected,"  Mr. 
Davis  responded.  "There  is,  however,  no  other  way  now; 
and  besides,  only  private  justice  can  reach  such  men  as  Burke. 
He  has  robbed  other  friends  of  mine  and  murdered  them  after- 
ward, as  he  would  have  murdered  me  a  few  minutes  ago." 

To  this  Mr.  Lincoln  made  no  reply,  save  to  grasp  Mr. 
Davis'  hand.  Holding  it  thus  a  moment,  as  if  about  to  say 
something  more,  or  reluctant  to  leave  the  other,  he  at  last 
turned  about  without  further  speech.  Uncle  Job  meanwhile 
coming  up,  calmly  surveyed  the  field  as  if  such  things  were 
matters  of  everyday  occurrence  with  him  and  of  no  account 
whatever.  At  last,  looking  toward  Mr.  Davis  and  Burke,  he 
asked: 

"IsJt  your  wish  that  I  should  attend  to  the  details?"  and 
on  their  bowing  assent,  he  went  on:  "As  the  meeting  must 
be  with  pistols,  the  distance  is  the  only  thing  to  consider. 
Have  you  any  wishes  in  regard  to  that?" 

"I  am  quite  content  to  leave  the  matter  in  your  hands,  Mr. 
Throckmorton,"  Mr.  Davis  responded. 


140  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

Burke  saying  nothing  except  to  nod  his  head,  Uncle  Job 
went  on : 

"If  the  matter  is  left  to  me,  I  shall  arrange  that  you  stand 
back  to  back  twenty  paces  apart,  and  upon  the  word  being 
given,  turn  and  fire,  or  advance  before  firing,  if  you  wish. 
Each  principal  will  be  entitled  to  one  shot  and  no  more. 
Is  this  satisfactory?" 

"It  suits  me,"  Burke  spoke  up  quickly,  in  a  soft,  insinuat- 
ing voice.  "Count  five,  the  last  number  being  the  signal  to 
fire — the  last  number,  you  understand." 

"The  arrangement  is  satisfactory  to  me,"  Mr.  Davis 
answered;  "but  be  quick,  if  you  please,  for  time  presses." 

Matters  being  thus  arranged,  Uncle  Job  placed  Mr.  Davis, 
and  doing  so  gave  him  one  of  the  two  horse-pistols  he  had 
brought  with  him,  and  such  as  were  in  common  use  in  those 
days.  Then  pacing  twenty  steps  away,  he  placed  Colonel 
Burke  as  he  had  done  Mr.  Davis,  giving  him  the  duplicate  of 
the  other's  weapon.  '  The  principals  being  thus  fixed,  he 
rejoined  Mr.  Lincoln,  who  stood  looking  on  with  troubled  coun- 
tenance. Facing  about,  Uncle  Job  turned  toward  Burke,  as  if 
expecting  to  see  him  throw  down  his  weapon  and  cry  for 
mercy.  Instead,  he  stood  firm,  and  with  a  look  of  such 
deadly  hate  in  his  sallow  face  that  I  shuddered  at  the  sight. 
Seeing  this,  Uncle  Job  turned  to  Mr.  Lincoln  as  if  uncertain 
what  to  do  next,  but  Mr.  Davis,  observing  the  pause,  spoke 
up  with  some  impatience,  saying : 

"Come,  Mr.  Throckmorton,  why  lose  time?  Let  us  get 
through  with  the  business." 

At  this,  everything  being  fixed,  and  there  being  no  excuse 
for  further  delay,  Uncle  Job  called  out,  but  no  longer  with 
any  heart  in  his  voice : 

"Are  you  ready,  gentlemen?  Remember,  when  I  count 
five,  turn  and  fire,  or  advance  before  firing  if  you  choose. 
Remember,  five  is  the  signal.  Are  you  ready?  One,  two, 
three,  four — "  As  the  last  number  was  called,  Burke  whirled 
about,  and  with  quick  aim  fired.  At  this  Mr.  Lincoln's  and 


RESTITUTION. 


The  Duel  141 

Uncle  Job's  faces  blanched,  and  they  turned  to  Mr.  Davis  as 
if  expecting  to  see  him  fall,  Uncle  Job  calling  out  mechanically 
the  final  number,  "Five."  Upon  hearing  this,  and  not  before, 
Mr.  Davis  turned  about  unharmed,  but  feeling  his  shoulder 
with  his  free  hand  as  if  he  had  been  hit.  Looking  in  the 
direction  of  Burke  and  observing  his  smoking  pistol  still 
upheld,  Mr.  Davis'  face  lowered  and  he  hesitated  for  a  moment; 
then,  without  remark  of  any  kind,  he  straightened  himself  up, 
and  keeping  his  weapon  extended,  advanced  slowly  toward 
where  his  opponent  stood.  As  he  went  forward,  Burke's 
face,  from  being  red,  turned  purple,  and  then  a  livid  white, 
his  eyes  and  cheeks  falling  in  as  if  he  had  been  dead  a  month. 
When  Mr.  Davis  had  gone  some  distance,  Burke,  unable  to 
control  himself  longer,  screamed  out  in  deadly  fright: 

"For  God's  sake  have  mercy,  Mr.  Davis!  Don't  kill  me! 
No,  no,  you  can't,  Mr.  Davis;  it  would  be  murder." 

Paying  no  heed,  Mr.  Davis  kept  on  until  he  was  within 
a  few  feet  of  Burke.  There  stopping,  the  fire  of  his  eyes 
seemed  to  consume  his  enemy,  for  Burke,  losing  all  control 
of  himself,  fell  on  his  knees,  crying  out  in  the  most  craven 
manner: 

"For  God's  sake,  as  you  are  a  Christian,  don't  kill  me,  Mr. 
Davis!  I'll  give  back  the  money;  I  never  meant  to  keep 
it,  I  swear  to  you,  as  God  is  my  judge.  I  have  children,  Mr. 
Davis  —  little  things.  Surely  you  could  not  kill  me";  and 
moaning  and  purring  like  a  cat,  the  wretch  dropped  on  his 
elbows,  limp  and  undone. 

"Let  you  live  to  go  on  robbing  and  killing  men,  you  scoun- 
drel !  You  deserve  a  dozen  deaths  for  the  murders  you  have 
committed,"  Mr.  Davis  answered,  without  stirring  or  lowering 
his  weapon. 

"I  know  it,  Mr.  Davis,  but  have  mercy!  I  will  never  play 
cards  again  if  you  will  let  me  off,  nor  harm  any  one!  So  help 
me  God!  Have  mercy!  have  mercy!"  and  he  dropped  his 
face  on  the  ground,  unable  longer  to  look  upon  Mr.  Davis's 
towering  height  and  angry  countenance. 


142  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"You  do  not  deserve  to  die  by  the  hands  of  a  gentleman, 
and  I  will  spare  you,  though  you  would  have  murdered  me; 
but  on  condition  that  you  turn  over  to  Mr.  Throckmorton  the 
money  you  have  taken  from  Singleton,  and  afterward  do  as  I 
say,"  Mr.  Davis  answered,  without  making  any  move. 

Upon  this,  Burke,  rising  to  his  knees,  answered  in  his  soft, 
whimpering  voice: 

"I  will  do  anything  you  say,  Mr.  Davis.  I  never  meant  to 
keep  the  money,  and  Singleton  shall  have  every  cent  back"; 
and  clutching  his  pocket  with  trembling  hands,  he  drew  forth 
a  leather  book,  and  searching  it  through  and  through,  presently 
gave  Uncle  Job  a  handful  of  papers  and  money,  saying: 
"There,  that  is  all  I  have;  every  penny!" 

Receiving  what  was  tendered,  Uncle  Job  put  it  in  his 
pocket,  and  then,  as  if  to  assure  himself,  took  the  book  from 
Burke's  hand,  and  looking  it  through,  presently  came  upon 
another  paper,  which  he  held  up  to  view,  saying: 

"See,  Mr.  Davis,  he  would  still  have  robbed  Singleton  of 
this,  a  bill  of  exchange  for  five  thousand  dollars." 

"I  did  not  know  it  was  there,  I  swear  to  God!"  Burke 
answered,  dropping  forward  again  on  his  elbows,  as  if  this  last 
act  would  surely  cause  his  death. 

"You  did,  you  scoundrel,"  Mr.  Davis  rejoined;  "but  no 
matter.  What  I  require  of  you  now  is  that  you  remain  here 
until  the  boat  leaves,  for  if  you  come  aboard  or  show  yourself 
or  cry  out,  I  will  kill  you  as  I  would  a  wolf." 

"You  will  not  leave  me  here,  Mr.  Davis,  surely?"  Burke 
purred,  looking  around  at  the  dark  forest. 

"Yes,  I  will,"  Mr.  Davis  answered.  "A  walk  of  a  few 
miles  will  take  you  to  a  landing  where  you  will  find  a  boat  by 
which  to  get  out  of  the  country.  Come,  do  you  agree?" 

"I  must,  if  I  am  allowed  no  choice,"  Burke  replied,  rising 
to  his  feet. 

Upon  this  ending  of  the  matter  Uncle  Job  secured  the 
pistol  Burke  had  dropped,  and  the  three,  without  exchanging 
a  word,  took  their  way  to  the  river,  the  bell  clanging  the 


The  Duel  143 

boat's  departure  as  they  neared  the  landing.  On  the  way 
Uncle  Job  lagged  far  behind,  and  with  downcast  head  and  sor- 
rowful visage.  Poor  man!  he  had  judged  Burke  to  be  a  cow- 
ard, and  sure  to  give  up  Singleton's  money  rather  than  fight. 
So  that  his  bravado  on  the  field,  and  attempt  to  assassinate 
Mr.  Davis,  had  come  to  him  in  the  nature  of  a  shock,  and  now 
when  it  was  all  over,  his  having  suggested  the  meeting  appeared 
to  him  in  the  light  of  a  very  foolish,  if  not  criminal,  act. 
Because  of  this  he  did  not  feel  elated  over  the  restoration  of 
the  money,  as  he  otherwise  would,  but  looked  upon  what  he 
had  done  as  silly  in  the  extreme,  and  mourned  accordingly. 


CHAPTER   XX 

ABRAHAM   LINCOLN  AND  JEFFERSON  DAVIS— THE 
PARTING  OF   THE   WAYS 

When  we  returned  to  the  boat  Mr.  Singleton  had  not 
stirred,  but  lay  as  if  dead  or  asleep.  Going  straight  to  him, 
Mr.  Davis  laid  his  hand  on  his  shoulder,  and  this  with  some 
impatience,  if  not  anger,  I  thought.  At  first  Mr.  Singleton 
did  not  move,  but  after  a  while  looked  up  confused  and 
blurred,  as  if  awakening  from  a  debauch.  Collecting  himself, 
he  arose  and  extended  his  hand  in  greeting,  as  if  he  had  not 
known  before  of  Mr.  Davis'  presence  on  the  boat.  Accepting  his 
overtures,  but  somewhat  curtly,  it  was  apparent,  Mr.  Davis  said : 

"I  come  to  tell  you,  Singleton,  that  Burke  has  left  the 
boat,  but  before  going  wished  to  return  the  money  he  had  of 
you,  as  he  has  designed  doing  from  the  first,  he  says.  To 
accomplish  this  he  has  made  me  his  messenger,  as  you  see." 
Saying  which,  Mr.  Davis  laid  the  money  and  papers  Burke  had 
turned  over  on  the  table  before  him.  At  this  Singleton  drew 
back,  flushed  and  scowling,  replying  in  a  harsh  voice: 

"I'll  not  accept  it,  Davis.  It  is  his,  and  the  more  scoun-r 
drel  I  for  risking  it  and  ruining  my  family.  No,  he  won,  and 
that  is  the  end  of  it."  Saying  which  he  sank  down  and  buried 
his  face  in  his  arms  as  before. 

"Very  well,"  Mr.  Davis  answered,  curtly,  and  placing  the 
money  in  his  pocket  without  saying  more,  proceeded  to  the 
cabin  set  apart  for  ladies.  Here  finding  Mrs.  Singleton,  he 
called  her  aside,  and  after  telling  her  as  much  as  he  thought 
proper  of  what  had  occurred,  leaving  out  indeed  all  reference 
to  the  encounter,  I  thought,  he  handed  her  the  package.  When 
she  was  able  finally  to  comprehend  that  the  fortune  of  her 
i44 


Abraham  Lincoln  and  Jefferson  Davis  145 

children  had  thus  been  restored,  she  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears, 
and  would  have  fallen  had  he  not  supported  her.  Recovering 
herself  after  a  while,  she  sought  to  kneel  to  him  in  gratitude, 
but  he,  lifting  her  up,  made  such  light  of  the  affair  that  she 
was  able  presently  to  resume  in  a  measure  her  natural  cheer- 
fulness of  manner.  Then,  and  as  if  in  remembrance  of  her 
husband's  dignity,  she  said,  tears  dimming  her  eyes: 

"Will  you  not  oblige  me,  Jefferson,  by  giving  the  money  to 
Mr.  Singleton.  Please  do  this  for  me." 

"I  have  already  offered  it  to  him,  dear  lady,"  Mr.  Davis 
answered,  "but  he  will  by  no  means  accept  it.  So  there 
is  nothing  for  you  to  do  but  take  charge  of  it,  for  Burke  has 
left  the  boat  and  will  not  return." 

"God  will  surely  bless  you  for  your  kindness  in  saving  my 
husband  and  protecting  my  children,"  Mrs.  Singleton 
responded,  her  emotion  again  overcoming  her.  Upon  this 
ending,  Mr.  Davis  stooping  down  with  grave  respect  took  her 
hand  and  kissed  it,  saying: 

"I  have  a  favor  to  ask  of  you  in  return,  dear  lady,  and  it 
is  that  I  may  present  the  gentlemen  who  have  acted  with  me, 
and  without  whom  I  could  have  done  nothing.  You  already 
know  and  admire  them,  and  they  are  every  way  worthy  of  your 
high  regard." 

Saying  which,  and  without  waiting  for  a  reply,  he  went  for- 
ward, and  finding  Mr.  Lincoln  and  Uncle  Job,  presented 
them  to  her  with  every  expression  of  regard  and  friendship 
that  one  can  in  speaking  of  another.  Taking  the  hand  of  each 
in  turn,  Mrs.  Singleton  pressed  it  between  both  her  own,  but 
overcome  so  that  she  could  not  speak.  Then  inclining  her 
head  and  smiling  upon  them  her  tender  thanks,  she  went  to- 
her  husband,  and  seating  herself  beside  him,  put  her  arm 
about  his  neck  in  loving  embrace. 

Thus  this  dear  lady's  sorrows  came  to  a  happy  ending- 
through  the  efforts  of  the  gentlemen  who  had  been  brought 
together  in  the  strange  manner  I  have  related.  Never  before, 
I  must  believe,  have  men  stood  beside  each  other  in  such 


146  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

unconscious  regard  of  the  greatness  of  their  souls  and  the 
exalted  destiny  fate  had  in  store  for  them  as  Mr.  Lincoln  and 
Mr.  Davis.  Looking  back  now  to  that  far-off  day  through  the 
mists  of  gathering  years  and  over  the  heads  of  intervening 
men,  I  see  them  again,  as  then,  distinct  and  apart  from  all 
others;  and  thus  I  shall  always  see  them.  In  many  things 
they  were  alike,  differing  only  in  unimportant  particulars. 
Mr.  Davis'  bearing  was  truly  great,  his  carriage  and  dignity 
and  chivalrous  character  stamping  him  as  one  born  to  com- 
mand. Yet  in  all  things  his  kingly  air,  for  it  was  truly  so, 
was  softened  into  sweet  conventionality  by  gentle  courtesy 
and  regard  for  the  small  things  of  life.  Of  his  countenance, 
how  shall  I  discribe  it,  except  to  say  that  it  was  singularly 
handsome,  and  so  exquisitely  refined  and  attractive  that  no 
one  could  look  upon  it  except  with  favor.* 

Differing  from  Mr.  Lincoln,  with  whom  he  afterward  came 
to  share  the  events  of  a  great  epoch  in  the  world's  history, 
Mr.  Davis's  life  had  been  nurtured  in  love  and  amid  surround- 
ings every  way  attractive.  The  crucible  of  misery  through 
which  Mr.  Lincoln  had  passed,  and  that  ever  caused  his  heart 
to  pulsate  with  tender  emotion,  Mr.  Davis  had  happily 
escaped.  Yet  in  all  things  he  was  not  less  gentle,  nor  did  he 
in  any  way  lack  in  conception  of  men's  needs  or  desire  to 
further  them  so  far  as  lay  in  his  power. 

I  had  no  thought,  in  recounting  the  story  of  my  life,  it  is 
proper  for  me  to  tell  you,  to  say  aught  of  Mr.  Davis  or  his 
chivalrous  action  in  Mrs.  Singleton's  behalf,  as  my  share 
therein  was  not  worthy  of  mention.  I  have,  however,  been 
led  to  change  my  mind  in  this,  for  the  reason  that  afterward, 
in  the  great  struggle  between  the  North  and  South,  I  had 
occasion  to  experience  his  gentleness  and  kindness  of  heart 
in  my  own  person.  At  the  time  to  which  I  refer  I  was  confined 
in  Libby  Prison,  broken  in  health  by  long  confinement  and 
irritating  wounds,  and  above  all,  distressed  on  account  of  my 

*  The  painting  of  Mr.  Davis  in  the  War  Department  at  Washington  fully  bears  out 
what  Gilbert  Holmes  says  of  Mr.  Davis  in  this  respect.  For  of  all  the  faces  there 
grouped  of  the  War  Secretaries,  since  the  foundation  of  our  Government,  his  is  by  far 
the  most  refined  and  attractive.— THE  AUTHOR. 


Abraham  Lincoln  and  Jefferson  Davis  147 

dear  wife,  who  was  ill  and  sorely  afflicted.  Fearing  a  disas- 
trous termination  to  my  troubles,  after  many  days'  anxious 
thought  I  wrote  to  the  President  of  my  distressful  plight,  and 
doing  so,  recommended  myself  to  him  by  recalling  the  mem- 
ories of  the  past,  and  especially  the  link  of  friendship  that 
bound  each  of  us  to  Mrs.  Singleton,  who  was  now  grown  to 
old  age,  but  still  beautiful  and  kindly  as  in  the  years  that  were 
gone.  Sealing  my  letter  with  much  trepidation  of  heart,  it  had 
scarcely  left  my  hand  when  a  Confederate  officer  came  with 
directions  for  me  to  accompany  him,  and  doing  so,  he  took 
me  straight  to  the  President.  Mr.  Davis  received  me  with 
every  show  of  hospitality,  afterward  plying  me  with  tender 
inquiries  about  the  Singletons  and  their  life  in  the  new  home. 
Then,  so  great  was  his  courtesy,  he  took  me  to  sup  with  his 
family,  where  it  was  my  good  fortune  to  meet  many  of  the 
officers  of  the  Confederacy,  and  among  them  that  great  and 
serene  man  General  Lee.  Very  kind  they  were  to  me  too, 
and  amiable  of  countenance  and  full  of  gentle  speech,  solici- 
tous in  all  things  of  my  comfort  and  ease  of  mind,  that 
I  should  not  feel  myself  to  be  a  stranger  in  an  enemy's  coun- 
try. When  I  returned  to  my  prison,  which  I  did  much 
cheered  in  mind  and  body,  the  officer  in  command  presently 
brought  me  word  that  the  President  had  directed  I  should  be 
permitted  to  be  at  large  in  Richmond,  on  my  giving  my  word 
of  honor  to  respect  the  parole.  That  is  how  it  happened,  you 
must  know,  that  I  was  not  among  those  who  escaped  from 
Libby  Prison,  some  to  reach  their  homes  in  safety,  but  many 
to  suffer  recapture  or  perish  by  the  way.  Directly  after  this 
Mr.  Davis  sent  for  me  again,  and  receiving  me  graciously,  as 
in  the  first  instance,  gave  me  a  pass  through  the  lines,  there 
to  remain  on  parole  until  exchanged.  This  with  many  kind 
messages  to  the  Singletons  and  expressions  of  good  will  toward 
myself.  For  his  act  of  unsolicited  grace,  by  which  I  was  able 
once  more  to  be  with  my  dear  wife  and  children,  I  cherish  him 
in  grateful  remembrance,  as  you  may  well  believe,  and  each 
day  with  deeper  and  more  tender  affection. 


148  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

Mr.  Lincoln  took  leave  of  us  the  third  day,  much  to  the 
regret  of  every  one,  for  in  so  short  a  time  his  kindness  of 
heart  and  the  simplicity  of  his  nature  had  won  the  regard 
of  all,  as  they  never  failed  to  do  throughout  his  eventful  life. 
This  exalted  man  had  many  peculiarities,  and  all  of  them 
agreeable.  The  angularity  of  his  features,  not  the  least,  lent 
piquancy  of  interest  to  what  he  said,  and  discovering  this  in 
early  life,  he  used  it,  and  wisely,  to  further  his  ambitious  ends. 
For  his  story-telling  was  but  a  political  device,  designed  to 
win  and  control  the  rude  and  impulsive  men  among  whom  his 
lot  was  at  first  cast.  Afterward,  when  President,  it  became 
an  instrument  of  vast  significance  to  his  country,  to  be  used 
in  the  divertisement  of  those  who  surged  about  him  in  greed 
of  place  and  preferment,  or  for  other  objects  not  consistent 
with  the  good  of  the  state.  In  that  moment  of  the  nation's 
peril,  when  wealth  melted  away  unnoticed  and  men  sunk  into 
the  ground  without  a  cry,  this  simple  device  of  an  alert  mind, 
not  less  than  what  was  truly  great  and  majestic  in  his  nature, 
helped  in  its  place,  and  as  intended,  to  control  and  hold  the 
government  on  its  appointed  course. 

Of  Mr.  Lincoln  I  saw  but  little  more  -as  a  youth,  but  in 
after  days  the  chance  fell  to  me  to  have  been  of  supreme 
service  to  him,  had  I  been  wiser  or  more  alert.  This  on  the 
fatal  night  of  his  assassination,  in  April,  1865,  when  the  hearts 
of  men  stood  still  and  the  nation  cried  out  in  anguish;  but 
being  dilatory,  without  knowing  it,  the  chance  passed.  I  was 
in  Washington  at  the  time,  brought  there  by  some  small  affair 
of  the  army,  and  late  in  the  afternoon,  loitering  about  my 
hotel,  a  rumor  reached  me,  though  how  I  did  not  know,  that 
some  demonstration  was  contemplated  in  connection  with  Mr. 
Lincoln  at  the  theater  that  night.  Regarding  it  as  unimpor- 
tant, and  yet  thinking  it  otherwise  in  the  disturbed  condition 
of  affairs,  I  determined  to  be  present.  Arriving  at  the  theater, 
and  observing  Mr.  Lincoln's  unprotected  state,  and  remem- 
bering why  I  came,  and  yet  not  knowing  why,  I  passed  to  the 
side  where  he  sat,  striving  as  I  went,  but  vainly,  to  think  of 


Abraham  Lincoln  and  Jefferson  Davis          149 

some  excuse  for  going  to  him,  or,  indeed,  for  being  there  at 
all.  As  I  pressed  forward,  perplexed  whether  to  go  on  or  turn 
back,  a  gentleman  brushed  past  me,  going  in  the  direction 
of  the  President's  box.  Upon  the  moment,  and  in  impulse  of 
thought,  I  reached  out  my  hand  to  stay  him;  and  this  I  had 
done,  but  looking  up,  saw  it  to  be  the  actor  Booth,  whom 
I  knew  to  have  access  to  places  of  this  kind.  Thinking  idly 
that  he  was  on  his  way  to  the  stage,  I  stepped  aside  and  let 
him  pass;  and  alas  that  I  did  so,  for  while  I  was  yet  deliber- 
ating, and  some  distance  from  the  President,  I  heard  the 
report  of  a  pistol,  and  a  moment  afterward  saw  the  assassin 
leap  upon  the  stage,  with  that  strange  cry  of  his  mad  brain, 
"St£  semper  tyrannis. ' '  Thus  the  opportunity  to  serve  my  bene- 
factor came  without  my  knowing  it,  and  the  strangeness  of  it 
all  has  closed  my  lips  till  now;  but  it  recurs  to  me  at  this  time, 
to  add  to  the  mournfulness  of  the  picture  as  I  look  back  to 
that  far-off  parting  on  the  great  river  in  May,  1838. 


CHAPTER   XXI 

WHAT  THE   CANTEENS   HELD 

One  evening,  some  days  after  leaving  Quincy,  we  again 
ran  across  Blott,  and  seemingly  not  different  from  what  he 
was  at  first.  Accosting  him,  Uncle  Job  asked: 

"How  do  you  find  yourself  to-night,  Blott?"  but  this  as  if 
seeking  diversion  rather  than  from  any  interest  in  the  poor 
wretch. 

"Oh,  I'm  just  runnin'  by  gravity.  The  insects  is  botherin' 
me,  but  not's  bad;  not's  bad.  Why,  they  made  more  noise 
than  a  fannin'  mill  at  one  time,  givin'  me  no  peace,  nor  lettin* 
me  sleep,"  Blott  answered,  kicking  mechanically  at  some 
object  before  him.  "Tell  me,"  he  went  on,  with  the  old 
scared  look,  "how're  the  stars  appearin'  to  you  to-night,  Mr. 
Job?  Sorty  as  if  rain  was  comin'?" 

"No;  how  do  they  look  to  you?" 

"Like  red  blotches  with  purple  rings  about  'em,  an*  movin* 
here  an'  there  quick,  as  if  they  was  alive." 

"You  are  ill,  Blott,"  Uncle  Job  answered,  sympathetically. 

"No;  it's  nothin'  but  them  toothache  drops,  an'  it'll  work 
off.  You  think  it's  whisky,  mebbe,  but  it  ain't,  for  I've  drunk 
it  for  years,  an'  it's  never  hurt  me  before,  an'  I  don't  believe 
it'll  hurt  any  one.  No;  it's  the  drops  an'  the  malary,"  Blott 
answered. 

"What  makes  you  think  you  have  malaria,  Blott?"  Uncle 
Job  asked. 

"Why,  I've  had  it  ever  since  Black  Hawk's  war,  six  years 
ago.  It  come  of  sleepin*  out  nights." 

"Were  you  in  that  war?"  Uncle  Job  asked,  his  voice  show- 
ing more  interest. 

150 


What  the  Canteens  Held  151 

"Was  I?  I  was  one  of  the  main  guys;  had  a  horse,  an* 
helped  pull  the  cannon  an'  things.  The  malary  come  on  me 
first  at  Stillman's  Run,  where  Black  Hawk  scart  us  stiff." 

"Is  that  why  the  battle  is  called  Stillman's  Run?" 

"It  wa'n't  a  battle,  just  a  volley  an'  a  whoop  an'  a  scram- 
ble to  git  away.  Why  we  were  that  scart  you  could  have 
stood  on  our  coat-tails,  they  stuck  out  so." 

"Tell  us  about  it;  I  am  sure  it  must  be  interesting," 
Uncle  Job  responded,  offering  Blott  a  chair  and  taking  one 
himself.* 

"You  see  we  were  all  cooped  up  at  Fort  Dixon,"  Blott 
went  on,  seating  himself,  "when  Major  Stillman  determined 
to  go  an'  do  somethin'.  So  we  marched  out,  full  of  expecta- 
tion an'  ignorance,  in  the  direction  where  Black  Hawk  was. 
When  he  heard  we  was  comin'  he  sent  out  three  Injuns  with 
a  white  flag  to  meet  us.  These  we  took  prisoners,  an'  some 
of  our  people  killed  one  of  'em.  Then  the  boys  in  front  lit 
out  after  the  mounted  scouts  Black  Hawk  had  sent  to  see 
what  become  of  his  flag,  an'  succeeded  in  killin'  two  of  these. 
When  Black  Hawk  saw  this  he  took  to  the  woods,  an'  by  an' 
by,  when  our  fellers  come  along,  the  Injuns  gave  a  great 
whoop  an'  fired  in  the  air,  not  hurtin'  anybody.  At  that  we 
turned  an'  run,  an'  them  in  the  camp  hearin'  us  comin'  an* 
thinkin'  we  was  Injuns,  lit  out,  every  one  on  his  own  hook, 
an*  never  stopped  till  they'd  got  under  cover.  It  seems  funny 
now,  but  it  wasn't  funny  then.  I  happened  to  be  on  a  long- 
legged  mare  that  you  couldn't  see  for  the  dust  when  she  was 
runnin',  an  so  kept  ahead.  It  was  lucky  for  me,  too,  for  them 
who  got  off  first  in  the  panic,  thinkin'  in  the  dark  that  them 
who  was  tearin'  after  was  Injuns,  fired,  an'  so  a  lot  of  our 
people  was  killed  that  way.  Scart!  Why  we  thought  every 

*ln  Mr.  Holmes'  references  to  Blott  he  at  first  manifested  some  impatience  with 
that  eccentric  and  simple-hearted  man.  There  was  a  struggle  in  his  mind,  it  was 
apparent,  between  distaste  for  Blott's  excesses  and  regard  for  him  as  an  admirer  of 
Black  Hawk  and  a  local  historian  of  Black  Hawk's  war.  At  last  Mr.  Holmes  expressed 
himself  as  believing  Blott's  rambling  story  of  the  war  should  be  omitted.  However,  be 
was  not  strenuous  in  the  matter  and  so  I  have  included  it,  feeling  it  worthy  of  regard 
because  relating  to  an  historical  event  of  great  importance  to  the  people  of  the  Upper 
Mississippi  Valley,  in  which  Blott  took  a  part.— THE  AUTHOR. 


152  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

bush  or  shadder  was  an  Injun,  an'  one  of  our  fellers'  bridle 
ketchin'  on  a  stump,  an'  he  thinkin'  it  was  an  Injun,  jumped 
off  to  surrender;  but  when  he  saw  what  it  was,  he  gave  the 
tree  a  whack,  an'  mountin',  never  stopped  till  he'd  reached 
Dixon.  If  anythin'  on  earth  can  make  an  Injun  laugh,  they 
must  have  laughed  that  day." 

"What  was  Black  Hawk  doing  in  Illinois,  anyway?"  Uncle 
Job  asked. 

"He  came  over  from  Iowa  to  have  a  dog-feast  an'  a  talk 
with  the  Pottawatamies  an'  plant  corn  for  his  people,  he  said. 
Anyway,  if  he'd  meant  war,  he  wouldn't  have  brought  his 
women  an'  children,  would  he?  But  our  people  was  scart,  an' 
said  it  was  contrary  to  the  treaty.  Tain't  likely,  though, 
that  our  boys  would  have  killed  the  flag  of  truce  bearer,  or 
shot  Black  Hawk's  scouts,  or  run  away,  as  they  did  finally, 
but  a  wagon  breakin'  down  that  had  a  barrel  of  whisky  aboard, 
some  of  our  soldiers  drank  all  they  could  an'  filled  their  can- 
teens with  the  rest.  It  was  their  drinkin'  of  this  stuff  that 
brought  on  the  trouble,  an'  for  that  reason  it  ought  to  be 
called  the  "Canteen  War." 

"So  that  is  where  you  got  the  malaria,  was  it?"  Uncle  Job 
interrupted.  "But  were  you  in  the  battle  of  Bad  Axe,  too,  in 
that  war?"  he  went  on,  tilting  his  chair  against  the  wheel- 
house  and  crossing  his  legs,  as  if  going  to  make  a  night 
of  it. 

"Well,  I  should  say  I  was;  but  shakin'  an'  as  full  of  malary 
as  a  'possum  is  of  fat." 

"Tell  us  about  it,  please,"  Uncle  Job  demanded,  lighting 
a  cigar  and  offering  one  to  Blott. 

"Well,  we  lined  up  there  finally,  with  Black  Hawk's  war- 
riors an'  twelve  hundred  Injun  women  an'  children  in  the 
willows  on  the  water's  edge  between  us  an'  the  river.  When 
we'd  got  'em  cornered  they  wanted  to  surrender,  but  this 
our  fellers  wouldn't  have,  an'  disregardin'  the  white  flag,  as 
before,  shot  'em  down  like  rabbits  whenever  one  showed  his 
head." 


What  the  Canteens  Held  153 

"That  was  cruel." 

"Yes,  but  clean-like  an'  satisfyin*  to  our  boys,  who  didn't 
want  any  prisoners,  but  was  in  for  finishin'  it  onct  for  all." 

"Was  there  no  outcry?" 

"Not  a  cry.  The  men  an'  squaws  just  dropped  in  their 
tracks  like  lead  when  we  shot  'em  down,  them  as  was  only 
hurt  tryin'  to  creep  away  into  the  swamps." 

"Did  the  Indians  show  fight?" 

"When  they  saw  they  was  bein'  shot  like  pigeons,  an'  no 
attention  was  paid  to  the  white  flag,  they  fired  back,  an'  so 
a  lot  of  our  fellers  was  killed  that  needn't  have  been.  Some 
of  the  Injun  women  tried  to  swim  the  river  with  their  little 
ones,  but  the  men  on  the  steamboat  killed  or  drove  'em  back. 
Some  did  git  over,  though,  but  the  Sioux  killed  an'  scalped 
these,  I  heard." 

"Did  you  take  any  prisoners?" 

"Yes;  some  women  an'  children,  but  not  many  men." 

"It  is  shameful  that  white  men  will  be  so  cruel,  even  in  the 
heat  of  anger,"  Uncle  Job  exclaimed,  puffing  out  great  clouds 
of  smoke. 

"Mebbe,  but  that's  the  way  they  fight  Injuns.  'Tain't  as 
if  one  man  was  fightin'  another,  but  like  he'd  fight  a  panther 
or  wildcat." 

"Was  Black  Hawk  in  the  battle?" 

"No.  He  was  up  the  river  with  some  warriors,  tryin'  to 
git  our  army  to  chase  him,  so's  to  give  his  squaws  an*  children 
a  chance  to  git  across;  but  our  people  was  too  smart  for 
that." 

"Was  Black  Hawk  a  brave  man?"  Uncle  Job  asked. 

"Yes;  a  badger  to  fight  an'  a  fox  to  git  away  if  need  be." 

"What  became  of  him  when  the  war  was  over?" 

"He  surrendered,  an*  they  sent  him  to  Jefferson  Barracks, 
an'  when  I  saw  him  he  was  draggin*  a  ball  an'  chain  around 
like  any  common  thief.  Afterward,  though,  they  let  him  off 
on  his  agreein'  to  go  to  Iowa." 

"Was  he  a  good  general?"  Uncle  Job  persisted. 


154  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"Yes;  like  a  lightnin'-bug  on  a  dark  night  in  battle. 
First  here  an'  then  there,  an'  so  quick  you  couldn't  git  a  bead 
on  him.  He  never  slept  in  a  campaign,  some  claimed.  Tor- 
pid Liver  an'  Split  Ear,  our  Injun  scouts,  said  he  could  go 
a  week  without  sleepin',  though  I  didn't  believe  that;  but  in 
the  chase  from  Stillman's  Run  to  Bad  Axe  he  couldn't  have 
slept  more'n  an"  hour  a  day.  Except  for  his  copper  color, 
he  was  as  fine  a  lookin'  man  as  I  ever  saw;  an'  when  he  put 
his  eyes  on  you  'twas  as  if  two  coals  of  fire  was  just  droppin' 
into  your  stomach,  they  were  so  fierce  an'  hot-like.  For  all 
that,  he  wasn't  cruel,  an'  didn't  drink,  an'  was  agin  scalpin' 
an'  torturin*  white  prisoners,  or  deviltry  like  that,  though 
when  fightin'  other  Injuns  he  follered  the  custom  of  his 
people." 

"I  saw  such  an  Indian  once,"  I  spoke  up,  remembering 
the  chief  who  had  rescued  my  father  and  mother.  "He  looked 
like  a  king,  and  his  eyes  burned  you." 

"You  never  saw  any  one  like  Black  Hawk  unless  it  was 
him,  for  there  ain't  any  other  such  Injun,"  Blott  answered. 

"What  else  happened  in  the  war?"  Uncle  Job  asked,  light- 
ing a  fresh  cigar. 

"Nothin",  except  such  things  as  always  happen  in  Injun 
wars.  Shootin'  an'  burnin1  an'  skirmishin'  here  an'  there, 
day  an'  night,  an'  women  an'  children  scart  to  death,  though 
mostly  without  cause,"  Blott  answered,  making  a  furtive 
dive  at  some  object  before  him. 

"Were  you  hurt  in  any  way?" 

"No,  'cept  I  got  the  malary;  an'  for  months  I  didn't  do 
nothin'  but  take  quinine  an*  whisky,  first  one  an'  then  the 
other. " 

"The  other  mostly,  I  fear,"  Uncle  Job  interrupted,  drily. 
"When  you  got  well  why  did  you  not  quit  drinking?" 

"I  never  got  well,  or  if  I  felt  better,  the  fear  of  the  thing 
kept  me  from  quittin'.  Oh,  it's  awful! — the  malary,  I  mean; 
an'  I  feel  it  comin"  on  now,  an'  if  you'll  excuse  me  I'll  go  an* 


What  the  Canteens  Held  155 

git  somethin*  to  head  it  off  afore  it  gits  the  start."  Saying 
which,  Blott  rose  to  his  feet  and  hurried  away  before  Uncle 
Job  could  ask  him  another  question. 

"Poor  devil,  he  will  never  overcome  his  malaria  as  long 
as  there  is  whisky  to  be  had,"  Uncle  Job  remarked,  as  we 
watched  him  disappear  down  the  stairway. 


CHAPTER   XXII 

HOLLAND   LOVE 

Cloudless  days  and  nights  scarcely  less  brilliant  added  to 
the  pleasure  of  our  journey,  and  this  fortunately,  for  we  were, 
throughout,  greatly  delayed  by  reason  of  low  water  and  drift- 
ing sands  and  shifting  currents.  These,  however,  are  ever 
obstacles  in  the  summer  months  on  the  upper  river,  but  at  the 
time  of  which  I  speak  the  stream  was  little  known,  and  the 
pilots,  in  the  main,  ignorant  of  the  courses  of  the  river,  so 
that  we  were  hindered  more  than  would  be  the  case  at  the 
present  time.  The  delay,  however  vexatious  it  might  have 
been  under  some  circumstances,  only  added  to  the  pleasure  of 
the  many  who,  like  myself,  were  abroad  in  the  world  for  the 
first  time,  and  so  little  or  nothing  was  thought  of  it. 

On  the  fourth  evening,  Uncle  Job  asked  me  to  go  with 
him  to  the  upper  deck,  and  this  I  was  glad  to  do,  for  there 
the  view  was  always  finer  than  at  any  other  place.  Seating 
ourselves,  we  idly  watched  the  river  and  the  country  round 
about,  enjoying  to  its  full  the  serenity  and  tranquil  beauty  of 
the  night;  and  to  me  it  has  ever  been  memorable  in  this 
respect  above  all  others.  The  stars  reflected  on  the  placid 
surface  of  the  water  seemed  fixed  in  its  depths,  and  nowhere 
else,  so  bright  and  steadfast  did  they  appear.  Far  off,  the 
moon,  at  its  full,  filled  the  valley  with  mellow  light,  except 
at  some  distant  point  where  it  glistened  in  silvery  whiteness 
on  the  surface  of  the  broad  river,  or  was  lost  in  the  gathering 
mists  beyond.  About  us  the  distant  hills  stood  out  like  sen- 
tinels, silent  and  observant,  as  if  noting  our  progress,  or 
asleep  in  the  fullness  of  nature.  On  one  side  a  black  forest 
banked  itself  against  the  blue  sky,  save  where  some  giant 
156 


Holland  Love  157 

tree,  lifting  its  head  above  its  fellows,  was  outlined  for 
a  moment  against  the  distant  horizon. 

"From  out  that  forest,  now  so  still,"  Uncle  Job  spoke  up, 
softly,  as  we  watched,  "there  came,  only  a  little  while  ago, 
the  fierce  cries  of  the  Sacs  and  Foxes  as  they  gathered  for 
battle  or  were  scattered  by  our  pursuing  armies.  Now  where 
are  they?"  he  added,  sadly,  as  if  stirred  by  the  picture. 

Farther  on,  patches  of  hawthorn  and  elder  peered  out 
from  the  steep  bank  of  the  river,  or  lurched  forward  into  the 
stream,  as  buffaloes  or  wild  horses  will  when  stooping  to 
drink.  Back  of  these,  on  lonely  peaks,  towering  cottonwoods 
and  elms  stood  watching  us,  and  as  if  mourning  our  inroad 
on  their  peaceful  domain  and  the  confusion  it  presaged.  Thus 
we  sat  without  speaking,  attentive,  yet  half-asleep,  watching 
the  view  that  changed  with  each  passing  moment,  yet  never 
changed  at  all.  When  in  this  way  the  night  was  half  gone, 
Uncle  Job,  who  had  scarce  moved,  uttered  an  exclamation  of 
impatience,  and  stretching  his  legs  across  the  guard,  spoke 
up,  though  not  as  if  he  were  addressing  any  one  in  partic- 
ular: 

"If  no  more  delays  occur  we  ought  to  reach  Rock  Island 
in  the  morning,  or  by  noon  at  the  farthest." 

"Yes,"  I  answered,  not  regarding  what  he  said. 

"A  beautiful  place  it  is,  too — great  trees  lining  the  sloping 
bank,  with  a  grassy  plain  beyond,  backed  by  a  forest  reaching 
down  to  the  edge  of  the  town,"  he  went  on,  as  if  reading  from 
an  advertisement. 

"It  must  be  fine,"  I  responded,  nowise  interested. 

"It  is  not  an  island,  though,  in  any  sense,  as  one  would 
suppose.  Nor  rocky,  either,  but  with  green,  soft  as  velvet, 
reaching  to  the  water's  edge.  At  one  time  its  people  thought 
it  would  be  a  great  city,  perhaps  the  greatest,  but  already  the 
belief  is  dying  out.  That  is  the  way,  though.  A  town 
springs  up  in  a  day,  only  to  be  followed  later  by  a  rush  to 
some  other  place,  and  so  everything  has  to  be  commenced 
anew";  and  he  sighed,  as  if  these  transformations  had  been 


158  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

the  cause  of  many  grievous  disappointments  to  him  in  his 
short  life. 

"Have  you  ever  lived  in  Rock  Island?"  I  asked,  seeing 
he  wanted  to  talk. 

"Yes,  for  a  while,  as  I  have  in  other  places;  but  only  to 
be  caught  up  and  carried  on  to  some  new  town,"  he  replied. 

"Will  you  ever  get  fixed  in  one  place,  do  you  think?" 
I  asked. 

"How  would  you  like  to  live  in  Rock  Island  for  a  while — 
say  a  month  or  two?"  he  replied,  as  if  not  hearing  my  idle 
question. 

"Why  do  you  ask,  uncle?"  I  answered,  wondering  what  he 
meant. 

"Oh,  we  have  a  relative  there.  A  sort  of  a  cousin,  named 
Rolland  Love,  and  a  very  agreeable  man,  too.  He  married 
a  second  cousin  of  yours  when  young,  but  she  dying,  he  has 
married  again;  so  he  is  a  cousin  and  not  a  cousin,  if  you  can 
make  that  out." 

"If  he  was  once  a  cousin  I  suppose  he  is  always  a  cousin, 
isn't  he?"  I  answered. 

"I  suppose  so,  and  more  particularly,"  he  replied,  "as  he 
is  a  man  to  open  your  heart  to." 

"Are  we  going  to  stop  at  Rock  Island?"  I  asked,  con- 
scious that  what  he  was  saying  led  up  to  something,  I  could 
not  tell  what. 

"Yes,  if  you  think  you  will  like  it,"  he  answered.  "I  want 
to  see  Rolland,  and  there  is  a  matter  that  has  been  troubling 
me  ever  since  we  left  Quincy.  What  would  you  say  to  stay- 
ing with  him  a  while,  until  matters  quiet  down?"  he  went  on, 
abruptly,  as  if  to  have  an  end  to  something  that  oppressed  him. 

"Are  you  going  to  stay,  too?"  I  asked. 

"Well,  no — or  only  for  a  day  or  so;  but  I  will  only  be 
a  little  way  off,  and  we  will  see  each  other  often,  you  know," 
he  answered,  reassuringly. 

"Do  you  wish  to  leave  me  there?"  I  asked,  a  great  lump 
filling  my  throat  at  the  thought. 


Rolland  Love  159 

"Yes,  for  a  while.  It  will  throw  Moth  off  the  track  if  he 
tries  to  follow  us,  as  I  fear  he  will,  for  your  aunt  will  spend 
half  she  has  to  get  you  back,  the  old  shrew!"  he  exclaimed, 
angrily.  "Think  of  her  sending  Moth  on  to  Quincy.  She  is 
mad  through  and  through,  and  now  Moth,  the  scamp!  will  be 
equally  determined,"  and  stopping,  he  seemed  as  if  trying 
to  make  out  the  persistence  and  cunning  they  would  evince 
in  the  pursuit.  To  all  this  I  made  no  answer,  being  filled 
afresh  with  direful  forebodings.  For  I  had  fondly  thought 
the  last  few  days  had  done  away  with  fear  of  Moth,  the  river 
cutting  off  all  possibility  of  his  troubling  me  further. 

"If  I  can  arrange  to  leave  you  with  Rolland  for  a  few 
weeks,"  Uncle  Job  resumed,  presently,  "I  will  go  home  and 
take  measures  to  put  it  out  of  the  power  of  your  aunt  to 
molest  you  further.  After  that  we  will  have  clear  sailing,  and 
can  do  as  we  please." 

The  prospect  thus  held  out  of  being  freed  from  Aunt 
Jane,  now  brought  up  afresh,  served  in  some  measure  to 
reconcile  me  to  what  he  said.  Nevertheless,  it  made  me  feel 
very  sad;  but  in  the  week  that  had  elapsed  since  we  left  Wild 
Plum,  now  so  far  in  the  past,  I  had  grown  old,  or  had  the 
semblance  of  it,  and  so  spoke  up  with  some  cheerfulness. 

"I'll  be  glad  to  stay  if  you  think  it  is  best,  uncle.  I  must 
learn  to  be  away  from  you  sometime,  and  I  might  as  well 
begin  now,  I  suppose." 

"That  is  my  brave  little  brother,"  he  answered,  with 
a  click  in  his  throat.  "It  is  the  best  thing  we  can  do,  I  am 
sure.  No  one  will  dream  of  looking  for  you  there,  and  I  will 
be  only  a  few  miles  off,  anyway.  Rolland  will  be  glad  to 
have  you  come  and  stay  with  him,  I  know.  You  will  like 
him,  too,  for  he  is  the  gentlest  man  in  the  world,  and  will 
treat  you  more  like  a  companion  than  anything  else.  He 
never  knows  any  distinctions  as  regards  age,  he  is  so  simple 
in  his  ways." 

"I  am  sure  I  shall  like  him,"  I  answered,  anxious  to  put 
his  mind  at  ease. 


160  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"He  is  funny  about  some  things,"  Uncle  Job  went  on, 
"and  microscopical,  like  many  clerical  men;  but  the  lens 
through  which  he  looks  at  the  world  is  amber  instead  of  ink, 
for  there  is  no  guile  in  him,  nor  crustiness  of  any  kind." 

"Why  do  you  say  he's  microscopical?"  I  asked,  not  know- 
ing what  he  meant. 

"Because  of  dealings  with  small  things  and  of  looking  at 
them  mostly  through  the  point  of  a  pen.  The  world  with 
such  men  too  often  takes  on  the  hue  of  the  ink  that  fills  their 
eyes,  instead  of  the  blue  sky  and  shining  sun." 

"*I  never  thought  of  that,"  I  replied. 

"It  diminishes  the  perspective,  you  see,  and  so  a  drop  of 
ink  is  oftentimes  enough  to  hide  or  drown  a  dozen  men. 
Holland  is  not  like  that,  though,  and  if  he  ever  drowns  any- 
body it  will  be  in  honey,  so  sweet  is  his  nature." 

"Oh,  I  am  sure  I'll  like  him;  but  what  does  he  do?"  I 
asked,  now  anxious  to  prolong  the  conversation. 

"He  is  a  kind  of  land  clerk,  but  his  work  does  not  take  up 
all  his  time,  and  so  he  has  a  good  deal  of  leisure.  This,  I  am 
sorry  to  say,  his  habits  sometimes  lead  him  to  misuse,  but  not 
often.  Such  things  are  common,  though,  here,  and  not  much 
thought  of;  but  in  his  case  they  keep  him  poor  and  prevent 
his  rising  in  the  world,  as  he  would  do  otherwise." 

"Is  his  wife  like  him?"  I  asked  at  a  venture,  not  knowing 
what  to  say  next. 

"I  don't  know,  for  I've  never  seen  her.  When  our  cousin 
died  and  Holland's  home  was  broken  up  he  was  like  one  lost, 
and  so  after  a  while  determined  to  marry  again.  There  being 
no  one  in  Rock  Island  he  thought  suitable,  what  did  he  do, 
the  simpleton!  but  write  to  a  friend  in  St.  Louis  to  pick  him  out 
a  wife.  This  his  friend  did,  and  after  a  little  correspondence, 
Rolland  went  down  after  his  bride.  They  were  married  within 
an  hour  after  his  arrival,  and  before  the  day  was  over  were  on 
their  way  home.  It  was  quick  work,  but  his  business  did 
not  permit  of  his  being  away,  I  suppose,"  Uncle  Job  added, 
as  if  to  explain  the  necessity  for  so  much  haste. 


Holland  Love  161 

"What  a  queer  way!  And  has  it  turned  out  as  he  would 
like?"  I  answered,  wondering  what  kind  of  a  wife  one  would 
get  in  such  a  fashion. 

"I  don't  know,"  he  replied,  "as  I  have  not  seen  him  since 
he  brought  her  home;  but  you  will  not  see  much  of  her,  and 
I  am  sure  it  must  be  all  right.  If  you  think  you  will  not  like 
it,  though,  say  the  word,  and  we  will  go  on  together  and  take 
the  chance  of  fighting  off  your  aunt  until  matters  can  be  fixed 
up." 

"No,  I'll  stop  with  Cousin  Holland  if  you  think  it  best," 
I  answered,  not  being  able  to  see  why  the  new  wife  should 
alter  our  determination  one  way  or  the  other. 

"Yes,  for  the  present,  anyway;  and  now  that  it  is  settled, 
let  us  turn  in,  for  it  is  long  past  midnight,"  Uncle  Job 
answered,  getting  to  his  feet. 

The  arrangement  thus  concluded  I  did  not  afterward  seek 
to  change,  though  it  casued  me  to  toss  and  tumble  about  for 
many  an  hour  after  I  went  to  bed.  The  next  morning  I  awoke 
more  reconciled  than  I  had  thought,  and  indeed  was  inclined 
to  it  now  rather  than  otherwise,  offering,  as  it  did,  some  new 
excitement  which,  youth-like,  I  set  off  against  any  objections 
there  could  be. 

When  we  reached  the  little  town  of  Rock  Island,  which, 
we  did  the  middle  of  the  forenoon,  we  parted  from  the  Single- 
tons with  many  kind  expressions  of  regret.  Mrs.  Singleton, 
now  happy  again  in  the  reunion  of  her  family,  embraced  and 
kissed  me,  making  me  promise  I  would  come  and  see  her  as 
soon  as  I  got  to  Appletop.  This  I  was  only  too  glad  to  do,  , 
for  I  had  become  very  fond  of  her  and  the  young  ladies,  all 
having  been  kind  to  me  from  the  very  first  moment  of  my 
meeting  them.  The  leave-taking  of  Uncle  Job  was  much 
more  prolonged,  and  unduly  so,  it  seemed  to  me,  in  the  case 
of  Miss  Betty,  and  afterward,  I  noticed,  he  turned  about  con- 
tinually, as  we  mounted  the  shore,  to  wave  her  a  new  farewell. 
This  I  thought  strange,  for  commonly  he  was  inclined  to  be 
very  reserved  with  ladies.  As  we  turned  to  leave  the  boat 


1 62  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

I  was  surprised  to  observe  Blott  making  his  way  toward  the 
town.      Hurrying  to  him,  I  caught  his  hand,  crying  out: 

"Please,  Blott,  you're  not  going  to  betray  me  to  Moth, 
nor  tell  him  I  have  stopped  here,  are  you?" 

"Be  off  with  you!  What  do  you  take  me  for?"  he  answered, 
with  considerable  temper. 

"Promise  me,  though,"  I  pleaded. 

"Well,  I  swear  I  won't,  so  help  me,"  and  he  raised  his  hand 
as  if  being  sworn.  "I'd  stop  drinkin*  first,  my  little  bantam," 
he  added  in  a  lighter  mood  and  as  if  to  clinch  the  matter. 

"Thank  you;  I  know  you'll  do  as  you  say,"  I  answered, 
relieved. 

"You  bet  your  life  I  will;  an'  if  Moth  troubles  you  again, 
I'll  break  every  bone  in  his  nasty  little  body.  Mr.  Lincoln's 
the  man  for  him,  though,  and  a  strange  one  he  is,  too.  One 
minute  so  homely  he'd  sour  milk,  and  the  next  you  look  up 
expectin'  to  see  the  angels  peerin'  through  the  clouds  an' 
listenin'  to  what  he  says."  Saying  which,  Blott  reached  out 
and  took  hold  of  my  shoulders,  as  if  to  embrace  me,  but 
thinking  better  of  it,  turned  and  went  his  way. 

Overjoyed,  I  hastened  after  Uncle  Job,  whom  I  found 
some  distance  off,  still  waving  his  handkerchief  to  Miss  Betty, 
who  stood  watching  from  the  boat.  When  we  reached  the 
town,  which  lay  a  little  back  from  the  river,  we  went  directly 
to  Cousin  Holland's  office,  which  proved  to  be  a  very  poor 
affair  indeed,  being  over  a  store,  and  having  nothing  in  it 
save  a  few  pieces  of  rough  furniture.  When  he  caught  sight 
of  Uncle  Job,  as  we  mounted  the  stairs,  he  hastened  to  the 
landing  to  receive  him;  and  very  glad  he  was  indeed,  if  his 
reception  was  a  sign,  for  he  took  both  Uncle  Job's  hands  in 
his  and  held  them  as  if  he  would  never  let  go.  When  at  last 
Uncle  Job  was  able  to  explain  who  I  was  and  why  we  came, 
he  embraced  me  affectionately,  saying  with  great  heartiness: 

"I  am  glad  to  welcome  you,  Cousin  Gilbert.  It  is  so 
long  since  I  have  seen  any  of  my  kin  that  it  does  my  eyes 
good." 


Holland  Love  163 

"I'm  glad  to  see  you,  Cousin  Holland,  I  am  sure,"  I  replied, 
much  pleased  with  his  kind  reception  and  cordial  manner. 

"We  will  be  great  friends  and  have  many  a  lark  together, 
depend  upon  it,"  he  went  on,  as  he  ushered  us  into  his 
office. 

When  Uncle  Job  explained  his  plans  for  circumventing 
Aunt  Jane,  Cousin  Holland  manifested  the  greatest  enthusi- 
asm, and  at  a  hint  of  the  possibility  of  a  visit  from  Moth,  he 
shook  the  goose-quill  he  held  in  such  a  savage,  menacing  way 
that  I  felt  at  last  that  here  I  was  safe. 

When  everything  had  been  concluded  to  our  satisfaction, 
Uncle  Job  spoke  of  our  new  cousin  and  her  willingness  to 
receive  me  as  one  of  her  family.  At  this  Cousin  Holland 
seemed  to  remember  her  for  the  first  time,  for  at  mention  of 
her  name  his  manner  changed,  and  though  he  continued  to 
murmur  words  of  welcome,  he  was  not  by  any  means  the  same 
as  before.  However,  after  some  stirring  about  the  office,  he 
was  more  at  ease,  bursting  out  anew,  and  in  the  most  ani- 
mated way: 

"Angeline  will  be  glad  to  welcome  you,  Gilbert,  I  know  she 
will.  Indeed,  she  will  esteem  it  an  honor,  Cousin  Job,  and 
a  pleasure.  You  could  not  possibly  leave  the  young  man  in 
better  hands,  so  let  us  talk  about  something  else.  Yes, 
indeed,  it  is  all  settled  and  fixed."  Saying  which,  he  dropped 
into  a  chair  and  began  to  arrange  the  inkstands  and  goose- 
quills  on  the  table  in  rows  and  angles,  as  if  that  was  a  part  of 
the  business  of  his  life.  This  agitation  passed  unobserved  by 
Uncle  Job,  and  I  seeing  it,  set  it  down  to  a  lover's  embarrass- 
ment at  mention  of  his  new  wife,  and  nothing  more. 

"-Why,  do  you  know,  Cousin  Job,"  he  went  on,  after 
a  while,  "she  is  the  dearest  woman  in  the  world,  and  when  we 
were  married  I  was  so  much  in  love  with  her  that  I  cut  her 
name  in  two  and  called  her  'Angel.'  ' 

"And  now?"  Uncle  Job  asked,  absently,  standing  on  tip- 
toe and  striving  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  boat  we  had  just  left. 

"Oh,  now!     Well,  in  the  stress  of  married  life  one  gets  to 


164  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

be  more  formal,  you  see,  and  so  I  have  come  to  call  her  plain 
Angeline. " 

"Plain  Angeline?" 

"Yes,  by  her  full  name,  you  know,  and  simply,  without 
any  formality.  It  wears  better.  Oh,  she  will  be  more  than 
pleased  to  have  you  with  us,  Cousin  Gilbert,  I  know  she  will," 
he  concluded,  commencing  anew  to  arrange  and  rearrange  the 
inkstands  and  goose-quills  on  his  desk. 

Upon  these  assurances  of  Cousin  Holland,  and  everything 
else  being  arranged,  Uncle  Job  concluded  at  the  last  moment 
not  to  stop  longer,  but  to  go  forward  on  the  boat  we  had  just 
left.  I  thought  afterward  that  Miss  Betty's  presence  had 
something  to  do  with  this,  for  when  we  returned  to  the  boat 
they  greeted  each  other  as  if  they  had  been  separated  for 
months  instead  of  a  few  minutes.  This  I  wondered  at 
greatly,  but  without  in  any  way  understanding  it,  so  simple 
and  inexperienced  was  I  in  the  ways  of  the  world. 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

COUSIN  ANGELINE 

Uncle  Job's  departure  made  me  very  unhappy,  and  when 
I  could  no  longer  see  a  trace  of  the  boat  that  carried  him 
away,  my  heart  grew  sick  and  tears  started  in  my  eyes  at  the 
thought  of  my  abandoned  state.  Cousin  Holland,  however, 
scarce  giving  me  time  to  breathe,  took  me  here  and  there 
about  the  little  town,  keeping  up  the  while  such  a  flow  of  small 
talk  that  in  a  little  while  I  found  myself  joining  with  the 
greatest  heartiness  in  all  he  said  and  did.  When  it  was  time 
for  luncheon  we  went  to  his  home,  but  not  directly,  for  mak- 
ing some  excuse,  he  left  me  a  little  way  off,  going  on  alone. 
This  I  thought  very  proper,  I  being  a  stranger  to  his  wife  and 
the  circumstances  of  my  coming  peculiar.  When,  however, 
he  did  not  return  for  an  hour  or  more,  I  became  uneasy,  and 
some  further  time  elapsing,  was  filled  with  fear,  not  being 
able  to  understand  the  cause  of  his  prolonged  absence.  At 
last,  to  my  great  relief,  he  returned,  and  without  explaining 
anything,  began  anew  to  assure  me  of  the  delight  with  which 
Cousin  Angeline  entered  into  our  plans  and  the  desire  she 
had  to  know  her  young  kinsman.  Thus  relieved  of  any 
anxiety,  for  I  was  never  of  a  suspicious  disposition,  I  went  on 
with  him  to  his  home  in  the  greatest  possible  ease  of  mind. 
Nothing  in  Cousin  Angeline's  manner  tended  to  disturb  this 
feeling  when  I  was  presented  to  her.  Nor  afterward,  indeed, 
at  luncheon,  for  she  was,  on  occasion  and  when  that  way 
inclined,  a  woman  of  more  than  ordinary  tact  and  dignity. 
Much  younger  than  Cousin  Holland,  she  lacked  his  rosiness 
of  color  and  fullness  of  figure,  he  being  very  red  and  plump 
of  build,  while  she  was  tall  and  of  somewhat  meager  frame. 
165 


1 66  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

Her  eyes,  if  I  may  attempt  to  tell  you  how  she  looked,  were  a 
light  blue,  and  save  when  at  times  tinged  with  a  steeliness  as  of 
ice,  were  rather  attractive  than  otherwise.  Her  mouth  I  thought 
remarkable  for  its  great  firmness,  for  her  lips  offered  no  more 
resistance  to  the  eye  than  the  edge  of  a  knife-blade.  Her 
nose,  too,  was  noticeable,  being  finely  formed  and  in  all  things 
perfect,  until  at  last,  approaching  the  end,  the  material  giving 
out,  or  something  else  happening,  what  remained  had  been 
squeezed  into  a  point  somewhat  too  sharp  for  comeliness,  and 
so  left.  However,  I  did  not  observe  these  things  at  the  time, 
or  if  I  did,  only  vaguely,  being  young  and  generally  ignorant 
in  respect  to  the  importance  of  such  matters  in  our  daily  life. 

The  luncheon  was  light,  but  every  way  fit  for  abstemious 
people,  though  much  unlike  what  I  had  been  used  to  at  Wild 
Plum,  where  there  was  profusion  verging  on  waste  in  all  such 
things.  However,  being  hungry,  I  did  not  regard  it  particu- 
larly, but  ate  with  great  heartiness,  paying  little  attention  to 
what  was  going  on  about  me.  Once  indeed,  as  the  meal 
progressed,  happening  to  glance  in  Cousin  Angeline's  direc- 
tion, I  thought  I  detected  some  show  of  uneasiness  at  the 
inroads  I  was  making  on  her  bread  and  butter,  but  not  believ- 
ing such  a  thing  possible,  I  gave  it  no  further  attention. 
Nothing  of  any  account  was  said  at  the  table,  except  that 
Cousin  Angeline  showed  much  curiosity  concerning  my  old 
home,  and  particularly  Aunt  Jane  and  her  attorney,  Moth. 
This  I  thought  very  kind,  and  answered  her  inquiries  with 
great  fullness,  being  desirous  above  all  things  to  please  her. 
Seeing  this,  she  smiled  encouragingly,  as  if  much  admiring  my 
amiability  and  frankness  of  speech. 

After  luncheon  Cousin  Holland  did  not  stop,  but  bidding 
me  good  by  hurried  away,  and  this  abruptly,  as  if  greatly 
pressed  for  time.  Being  thus  left  alone  with  Cousin  Angeline, 
and  she  seeming  to  forget  I  was  there,  I  presently  went  out  to 
inspect  the  garden,  some  glimpses  of  which  I  had  obtained 
from  the  window.  Of  gravel  and  cleanliness  there  was  no 
end,  but  of  flowers  no  great  profusion  or  variety,  and  such  as 


Cousin  Angelina  167 

there  were,  I  thought,  had  a  stiff,  aggressive  look,  as  if  chal- 
lenging me  to  come  near  or  touch  them.  Altogether  they 
had  the  air  of  soldiers  on  duty,  and  because  of  too  strict  dis- 
cipline or  for  some  other  good  reason,  had  lost  something  of 
the  glow  and  comfort  of  outdoor  life.  Of  flowers,  however, 
I  had  never  as  a  youth  taken  much  account,  not  being  able 
to  understand  them,  nor,  indeed,  make  them  thrive,  as  my 
mother  could  without  thought.  Because  of  this  I  was  inclined 
to  look  on  what  I  now  saw  as  something  out  of  my  line,  and 
therefore  not  to  be  lightly  criticised.  In  this  frame  of  mind 
I  went  on  to  where  a  mild-eyed  cow  stood  watching  me  curi- 
ously, as  cows  will  when  strangers  approach.  Not  having 
any  morsel  with  which  to  tempt  her  palate,  I  stroked  her  face 
for  a  while,  and  then  turned  to  the  little  colonies  of  chickens 
that  busied  themselves  near  by.  These  I  saluted  as  old 
friends,  being  much  inclined  to  their  cheerful  companionship, 
carried  on  as  it  always  is  with  so  much  small  talk  and  pleasur- 
able excitement.  Thus  being  once  more  in  their  company, 
I  fell  into  an  attitude  of  attention  and  interest,  to  which  they 
at  once  responded  by  much  clucking  and  diligent  search  after 
the  small  particles  of  food  the  yard  contained.  These  old 
friends  I  came  in  time  to  know  very  well,  and  with  great 
liking,  because  of  their  simple  ways;  but  of  their  product, 
which  I  looked  forward  to  with  interest,  as  young  people  of 
good  appetite  will,  only  a  small  portion  ever  found  its  way  to 
the  table.  The  reason  of  this,  as  I  learned  at  a  later  day, 
was  that  the  greater  part  was  put  aside  and  converted  by 
Cousin  Angeline,  with  other  small  perquisites  of  the  house, 
into  a  secret  fund  for  her  own  particular  behoof  and  divertise- 
ment.  This  properly  enough.  However,  it  did  not  come 
fully  to  light  until  after  Cousin  Holland's  death,  some  years 
later,  when  the  fund  thus  laid  away  came  in  the  nick  of  time 
to  enable  her  to  live  on  in  great  contentment  and  ease  of  life. 
This  until  one  day  a  clergyman  of  studious  habits  coming 
along  and  being  desirous  to  marry,  yet  not  having  the  time 
to  examine  the  goods  he  was  getting,  or  being  ignorant  in 


1 68  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

respect  to  such  matters,  he  took  her  out  of  hand,  as  Cousin 
Holland  had  done  before  him.  However,  these  things  being 
then  unknown,  as  I  say,  I  confidently  looked  forward  to  a 
plentiful  supply  of  butter  and  eggs,  as  in  the  old  time  at  Wild 
Plum,  though  mistakenly,  as  it  appeared.  When  the  scanti- 
ness of  fare  in  this  respect  became  apparent,  I  did  not  much 
regard  it,  I  am  bound  to  say,  being  always  stout  of  appetite 
for  such  things  as  fell  in  my  way,  thinking  little  of  what  was 
lacking.  Indeed,  I  had  heard  it  said,  and  wisely,  that  we 
were  ever  inclined  to  eat  more  than  was  good  for  us.  This 
saying  was  often  on  my  Aunt  Jane's  lips,  and  she,  living  up 
to  her  doctrine,  was  in  everything  healthy  and  well  preserved. 
So  that  if  sometimes  on  getting  up  from  Cousin  Angeline's 
table  I  felt  that  I  could  have  eaten  more,  remembering  my 
aunt  and  her  rugged  health,  I  was  fain  to  think  it  for  the  best. 
Such  reflections  of  the  young,  however  apt,  are  more  natural 
to  mature  folk,  being  seasoned  in  the  latter  case  with  a  philos- 
ophy of  life  that  the  former  lack.  So  that  if  abstinence  is  not 
always  accepted  by  children  with  good  grace,  older  people  and 
relatives,  however  remote,  should  make  allowance  for  the  cir- 
cumstance. 

On  the  evening  of  my  arrival,  tea  was  delayed  by  Cousin 
Holland's  not  coming  at  the  time  expected,  and  when  he 
reached  home  I  observed  an  unsteadiness  of  limb  and  height 
of  voice  that  I  had  not  noticed  before.  Cousin  Angeline  also 
remarked  the  change,  and  harshly,  by  a  word  that,  out  of 
respect  for  Cousin  Holland,  I  may  not  repeat.  When  the 
meal  was  over,  and  it  was  not  such,  I  am  bound  to  say,  as  to 
cause  one  to  lay  awake  because  of  too  much  fullness,  we  sat 
about  in  great  discomfort  of  mind,  Cousin  Holland  making 
pretense  of  reading  and  Cousin  Angeline  busying  herself  with 
some  accounts  that  lay  docketed  in  a  precise  way  on  her 
table.  These,  I  learned  later,  had  to  do  with  the  many  charit- 
able matters  in  which  she  was  interested,  and  to  their  great 
and  lasting  good,  so  it  was  claimed.  Her  contributions 
toward  work  of  this  nature,  however,  were  rather  in  the  way 


Cousin  Angeline  169 

of  supervision  and  needed  advice  than  in  the  giving  of  more 
tangible  things.  In  new  and  unorganzied  societies  such  duties, 
she  was  often  at  pains  to  point  out,  were  much  more  neces- 
sary and  difficult  of  procurement  than  the  mere  giving  of 
money.  Nevetheless,  in  accepting  offices  requiring  this  dis- 
parity of  service  she  did  so  without  jealousy  or  protest,  her 
desire  to  help,  she  would  say,  leading  her  to  act  with  cheerful 
zeal,  leaving  the  lesser  labor  of  providing  funds  and  supplies 
to  those  competent  in  that  direction. 

When  it  was  time  to  retire  for  the  night,  Cousin  Angeline 
made  much  of  the  cozy  nook  she  had  arranged  for  me,  and 
indeed  it  quite  exceeded  anything  of  the  kind  I  had  ever  seen. 
The  couch,  which  answered  for  both  bed  and  lounge,  was  put 
to  one  side  of  the  kitchen,  and  so  deftly  that  lying  down  my 
feet  just  missed  the  stove  at  one  end,  while  my  head  barely 
escaped  contact  with  the  cupboard  at  the  other.  Upon  trial 
I  found  the  bed  hard  and  the  clothing  scant,  but  it  being  sum- 
mer, this  last  I  thought  not  worth  noticing.  Cousin  Holland, 
who  had  by  this  time  regained  his  former  composure,  eyed  the 
bed  with  great  disfavor,  but  being  in  disgrace,  did  not  venture 
further  than  to  inquire  why  she  had  not  given  me  a  room, 
there  being  one  unoccupied.  To  this  Cousin  Angeline  replied 
by  look  rather  than  words,  but  on  the  whole  giving  out  that 
it  was  unprepared,  and  in  any  event  hardly  suitable  for  such 
occupancy,  being  in  the  nature  of  a  guest-chamber.  As 
I  made  no  remark,  but  began  resolutely  to  take  off  my  clothes, 
being  tired  with  the  day's  doings,  nothing  more  was  said  on 
the  subject.  Bidding  me  good  night,  they  went  away,  leaving 
me  in  darkness,  save  that,  happily  and  as  of  good  omen, 
plenty  of  light  came  from  the  full  moon  shining  through  the 
open  window  at  my  side.  The  bed,  to  my  young  and  pliant 
bones,  seemed  at  first  not  so  hard,  but  later,  the  edge  being 
taken  off  my  weariness,  I  awoke  to  find  it  different;  but  never 
having  set  much  store  by  such  things  when  living  in  greater 
luxury  of  life,  and  being  still  tired,  I  turned  my  face  to  the 
wall,  and  was  soon  lost  in  sleep. 


170  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

My  life  the  first  day  was  in  no  particular  different  through- 
out my  stay  with  Cousin  Angeline,  except  such  slight  change 
as  going  to  Cousin  Holland's  office  or  loitering  by  the  river, 
which  latter  ever  drew  me,  by  reason  of  its  great  and  master- 
ful ways.  Unhappily  for  me,  however,  my  habits,  and  more 
particularly  my  manners,  not  being  suited  to  city  life,  soon 
attracted  the  attention  and  reproof  of  Cousin  Angeline.  In 
this  connection,  and  that  I  might  improve  the  faster,  she  cited 
as  examples  for  me  to  study  her  orphaned  nephews,  Rudley 
and  James,  whose  bringing-up  she  had  supervised,  and  to 
whom  she  was  in  all  things  greatly  attached.  Her  reference 
to  these  young  gentlemen,  whom  I  was  destined  never  to  see, 
were  given,  too,  with  much  strength  of  utterance  as  time  went 
on  and  the  need  of  reproof  became  more  and  more  apparent. 
For  Cousin  Angeline  was  not  lacking  in  force  of  speech,  as 
she  was  fond  of  saying,  when  good  might  be  accomplished 
thereby.  Her  frequent  reference  to  Rudley  and  James  made 
them  a  source  of  anxiety  to  me  at  first,  and  later  a  cause  of 
fear  and  shame,  for  however  strenuously  I  sought  to  follow 
their  example,  I  could  never  by  any  chance  come  near  to 
them,  even  in  the  smallest  particular  of  their  lives.  In  the 
larger  things  my  failure  was  more  marked,  but  not  without 
hopefulness  at  first.  Thus,  when  Cousin  Angeline  told  me  it 
had  never  been  necessary  to  bribe  Rudley  and  James  to  read 
the  Bible,  and  that  even  as  children  they  loved  to  bury  their 
faces  in  its  sacred  pages,  I  strove  to  become  equally  inter- 
ested. So,  too,  in  regard  to  keeping  the  Sabbath  and  absence 
of  desire  to  amuse  myself  on  that  sacred  day.  To  them,  she 
was  wont  to  say,  the  hum  of  the  Sunday-school  was  like  the 
music  of  the  harps;  and  upright  and  alert,  with  attentive 
faces,  no  fragment  of  prayer  or  sermon  ever  escaped  their 
hungry  ears.  Of  texts  they  could  repeat  every  one  they  had 
heard,  down  to  the  very  last,  but  I,  when  questioned,  could 
not  for  the  life  of  me  think  of  one.  It  thus  fell  out  that  the 
feet  of  Rudley  and  James,  being  fixed  on  solid  ground,  all 
else  came  easy.  It  was  a  second  nature  to  them  to  be  respect- 


Cousin  Angeline  171 

ful  and  prompt  at  meals,  sparing  in  the  use  of  jam,  and  ever 
regardful  of  those  about  them.  Nor  could  they  tell  a  lie,  or 
come  to  the  table  save  with  shining  faces. 

Such,  unfortunately  for  me,  because  of  my  shortcomings, 
were  Rudley  and  James,  in  all  things  upright  and  without 
shred  or  raveling  of  any  kind.  When  I  came  to  know  how 
perfect  they  were,  I  never  through  vanity  sought  to  equal 
them  in  any  great  thing,  but  struggled  only  to  pattern  after 
them  in  smaller  matters,  but  fruitlessly,  as  it  turned  out. 
Nor  was  I  alone  in  these  efforts,  not  indeed  to  achieve  prefer- 
ment, but  bear  equality  in  some  immaterial  thing.  For 
Cousin  Holland  came  in  with  like  scantiness  of  resource  in 
comparison  with  Cousin  Angeline's  dear  father,  who  in  every 
detail  of  life,  so  it  appeared,  was  a  model  of  sobriety  and 
goodly  thrift.  These  comparisons,  however  unpalatable, 
Cousin  Rolland  and  I  came  in  time  to  bear  with  patience; 
nay,  to  look  forward  to  with  equanimity,' as  one  may  become 
accustomed  to  any  disquieting  thing  in  life.  Nor  did  we 
ever  question  anything  she  said,  for  Cousin  Angeline  was  not 
a  woman  to  argue  with,  much  less  to  contradict  in  matters 
about  which  she  had  made  up  her  mind.  If,  indeed,  one 
were  so  foolish,  she  had  a  way  of  conjuring  up  something  in 
her  own  experience  that  would  utterly  and  forever  upset  all 
your  arguments,  however  plausible  they  might  appear.  This 
trait,  however,  we  often  notice  in  good  men  and  women  that 
we  know,  and  so  I  do  wrong,  perhaps,  to  speak  of  it  as  peculiar 
to  her. 

In  all  Cousin  Angeline's  references  to  Rudley  and  James, 
the  former,  I  came  to  remark,  was  ever  named  first.  Whether 
this  Avas  because  he  was  older  or  the  more  upright  of  life 
I  never  knew — or  if  I  did,  have  forgotten. 

Thus  they  passed,  and  to  my  good,  I  hope;  but  in  the  long 
years  that  have  elapsed  since  that  far-off  time  I  have  had,  as 
you  may  suppose,  many  curious  reflections  regarding  them ; 
not,  indeed,  in  the  way  of  speculative  desire  for  nearer 
acquaintance,  but  rather  as  to  how  they  fell  out  in  the  end — 


1 72  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

whether  they  lived  on  to  old  age,  looked  up  to  and  nonored  by 
the  world,  or  relaxing  because  of  too  great  strain,  finally  fell 
by  the  wayside  in  sheer  contrariness  of  spirit,  and  so  ended 
their  lives  in  shame,  and  different  from  what  might  have  been 
hoped.  Of  these  details  and  others  of  interest  I  shall  now 
never  know,  for  the  connecting-threads  by  which  knowledge 
might  have  come  to  me  were  long  since  severed.  Thus  it  has 
been  that  at  the  end  of  all  my  cogitations  concerning  them, 
I  have  ever  been  compelled,  and  to  my  great  regret,  to  bid 
them  a  new  and  reluctant  farewell. 


CHAPTER   XXIV 

THE   FISHERS 

"Fish'll  bite  their  own  tails  on  a  day  like  this,  Gilbert,  and 
will  go  crazy  at  sight  of  a  grasshopper,"  Cousin  Holland 
remarked  one  afternoon  as  we  came  out  from  luncheon  and 
were  well  clear  of  the  house. 

"Yes,"  I  answered,  looking  up  at  the  sky,  which  was  over- 
cast with  gray  clouds. 

"What  do  you  say,  then,  to  a  little  diversion — after  office 
hours?"  he  asked,  coaxingly,  as  if  seeking  to  influence  me. 

"I'd  like  it,"  I  answered,  which  he  knew  well  enough. 

"Well,  then,  suppose  you  be  at  the  inlet  at  four — that  is, 
if  your  cousin  can  spare  you,"  he  added,  winking,  and  glan- 
cing in  the  direction  of  the  house. 

"What  kind  of  bait  shall  I  get?"  I  asked,  disregarding  his 
reference  to  Cousin  Angeline. 

"Oh,  anything.  If  you  could  lay  hold  of  a  frog,  though,  we 
might  get  a  bass  or  pickerel,  maybe ;  but  pork  or  worms  will  do 
for  cat  and  suckers,  and  they  are  good  enough  fishing  for  me. " 

"All  right;  I'll  be  there  with  what  I  can  find,"  I  answered, 
as  he  walked  away. 

Like  all  good-natured  men,  Cousin  Holland  was  very  fond 
of  this  kind  of  sport,  and  without  much,  if  any,  reference  to 
the  weather,  though  if  favorable,  as  in  the  present  instance, 
he  never  failed  to  make  it  an  excuse.  Fishing,  indeed,  was 
the  one  thing  in  our  lives  from  which  we  derived  unalloyed 
pleasure,  albeit  partaken  of  surreptitiously  and  with  fear  and 
trembling  as  regards  Cousin  Angeline,  who  looked  upon  such 
things  as  weak  and  frivolous,  and  not  to  be  countenanced, 
much  less  encouraged. 

'73 


174  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

The  ground  we  most  frequented  was  a  little  inlet  below  the 
town,  near  where  the  Sacs  and  Foxes  once  had  their  home, 
though  for  pickerel  and  bass  we  often  went  as  far  as  the  junc- 
ture of  the  two  rivers,  some  way  off.  Hid  away  in  the  little 
cove  I  have  mentioned,  Cousin  Holland  kept  a  boat,  which 
I  was  privileged  to  use  when  I  could  steal  away;  and  this  was 
much  oftener  than  one  would  think,  because  of  Cousin  Ange- 
line's  frequent  absences  from  home  in  pursuance  of  her  many 
charitable  labors.  When  Cousin  Holland's  work  permitted, 
he  would  join  me,  and  loosing  our  little  craft,  we  pulled  into 
the  quiet  bay  in  search  of  such  sport  as  the  day  afforded. 
This,  however,  without  hope  of  any  great  catch  as  regards 
number  or  quality  of  fish,  but  with  many  idle  comments 
regarding  the  water  and  nature  of  the  bait  and  other  things 
of  that  kind,  such  as  fishermen  are  given  to. 

One  place  in  the  little  inlet,  where  the  water  was  deep  and 
the  bottom  black  with  mud,  catfish  were  always  to  be  found 
in  the  shade  of  the  evening,  and  here  at  such  times  we  were 
in  the  habit  of  casting  our  lines;  and  in  regard  to  this  fish, 
I  am  bound  to  say  it  is  not  generally  held  in  the  high  estima- 
tion its  plastic  nature  and  grave  character  merit.  Moving 
about  all  its  life  in  the  quietude  of  the  deep,  cool  water,  it 
comes  to  the  surface  without  flutter  or  hurry  of  expectation, 
but  with  a  steady  pull  on  the  line  such  as  one  might  expect 
from  its  bulk  and  dignified  character.  This  absence  of  flurry 
is  misconstrued  by  the  unthinking,  and  causes  many  fishermen 
to  underestimate  the  value  and  game  qualities  of  the  fish. 
For  one  must  not  suppose  that  it  is  without  feeling  or  spirit 
because  it  makes  so  little  fuss.  On  the  contrary,  its  grinding 
teeth  and  close-set  jaws  clearly  evince  its  courage  and  disposi- 
tion to  fight  if  there  was  anything  to  be  gained  by  such  waste 
of  energy.  "Why  struggle  against  the  inevitable!"  it  seems 
to  say,  and  in  this  clearly  shows  itself  superior  to  all  others 
of  its  kind,  though  if  one  would  clearly  understand  its  rage 
and  undying  hate  he  has  but  to  watch  its  pliant  whiskers  as 
they  wag  and  twirl  as  it  emerges  from  the  water,  and  after- 


The  Fishers  175 

ward  when  lying  helpless  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat.  Curi- 
ously, the  head  of  this  fish  is  in  all  things  too  big  for  its  body, 
but  why  this  is  so  I  have  never  heard  any  one  venture  an 
opinion.  It  is  as  if  it  were  made  for  some  other  and  bigger 
animal,  but  there  being  none  such  about,  nature  had  in  deri- 
sion clapped  it  on  this  creature,  all  too  small.  This  unfor- 
tunate fish  afforded  us  no  end  of  pleasure,  but  of  our  catch, 
after  giving  it  some  examination  and  remark, "we  generally 
ended  by  slipping  it  back  into  the  stream,  to  be  caught  again; 
unless,  indeed,  it  was  of  considerable  size  and  firmness,  when 
if  we  thought  it  prudent,  we  put  it  aside  for  Cousin  Angeline's 
table  or  charitable  endeavors. 

If  it  happened  that  we  were  on  hand  too  early  for  cat  to 
bite,  we  fished  for  suckers,  of  which  there  were  great  numbers 
about  the  mouth  of  the  little  bay.  It  is  from  this  harmless 
fish,  you  must  know,  that  feeds  mainly  on  succulent  grasses, 
that  the  good  people  of  Illinois  derive  their  patronymic. 
Why  it,  any  more  than  another,  should  have  had  so  great  an 
honor  thrust  upon  it  I  do  not  know,  unless,  indeed,  because 
of  its  great  prevalence  in  the  sluggish  streams  of  the  state. 
Viewed  from  the  exterior,  it  is  as  shapely  a  fish  as  one  could 
wish,  but  inwardly  is  full  of  bones;  not  diffused,  indeed,  as 
in  the  case  of  other  fish,  but  tied  up  like  faggots  or  sheaves 
of  wheat,  and  in  such  diminutive  parcels  that  no  ingenuity  of 
the  gourmand  is  sufficient  to  evade  the  delicate  morsels.  The 
mouth  of  the  sucker  is  its  striking  feature,  however,  and  from 
this  it  derives  its  name.  Without  teeth  and  featureless,  this 
interesting  fish  has  a  way  of  puckering  its  lips  into  a  knot  and 
then  pursing  them  out  suddenly,  as  a  child  will  in  derision  of 
its  playmates;  or  perhaps  more  like  a  man  who,  firmly  draw- 
ing in  his  lips,  as  if  nothing  could  ever  move  him  from  his  set 
purpose,  suddenly  relaxes  and  gives  up  all  without  a  struggle. 

Nothing  could  exceed  our  delight  in  snaring  the  inoffen- 
sive creatures  that  frequented  the  little  inlet,  and  indeed  it  is 
difficult  to  imagine  any  form  of  recreation  more  refreshing  or 
likely  to  relax  the  overstrained  nerves  of  men.  This  more 


176  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

especially,  I  may  say,  in  the  case  of  philosophers  and  others 
not  given  to  much  hardness  of  muscle.  Its  restive  proper- 
ties, too,  are  far  greater,  I  am  constrained  to  believe,  than  are 
to  be  found  in  the  new-fangled  reel  and  more  alert  game, 
whereby  your  nervous  system  is  much  overwrought  and 
the  fish  put  to  a  vexation  of  spirit  every  kindly  man  must 
deplore. 

In  this  way,  and  as  I  have  described,  the  days  went  by 
until  two  months  had  come  and  gone,  when  one  afternoon, 
as  we  sat  watching  our  lines,  Cousin  Holland  remarked,  spit- 
ting on  his  bait  a  second  time: 

"Your  Cousin  Angeline  has  more  work  to  do,  Gilbert." 

This  news,  while  important,  as  was  everything  concerning 
Cousin  Angeline,  seemingly  did  not  concern  me,  and  so  I  only 
answered: 

"Yes,  cousin." 

"She  has  a  correspondent." 

"Has  she?"  I  replied,  absently,  pulling  in  a  bullhead  that 
wriggled  on  the  hook  as  if  some  one  were  tickling  it  to  death. 

"Cousin  Angeline's  fond  of  writing  and  accounts." 

"This  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  charities,  though, "  he 
answered,  reflectively. 

"I  suppose  letter-writing's  strange  here?"  I  replied, 
throwing  the  bullhead  back  into  the  water  and  putting  on 
a  fresh  worm.  "But  we  ought  always  to  write  to  our  kin,  and 
Cousin  Angeline's  got  a  lot,  you  know." 

"Yes,  including  papa  and  the  two  nephews;  but  it  is  not 
her  kin  who  are  writing  to  her  now,"  he  replied,  jerking  at 
his  line.  "Drat  it!  that's  the  third  worm  that  turtle  has 
picked  off  my  hook." 

"Try  a  grasshopper,  cousin;  but  who  else  writes  to  her?" 
I  answered,  dropping  my  hook  close  to  the  bottom  for  cat. 

"A  lawyer,  of  all  men." 

"A  lawyer!  What  can  he  have  to  say?"  I  answered,  little 
interested. 

"Oh,  there  are  many  things  lawyers  can  write  about,  as  in 


The  Fishers  177 

this  case,"  he  replied.  "You  would  jump  out  of  the  boat, 
too,  if  you  knew  his  name." 

"Why,  what  have  I  to  do  with  it?"  I  answered,  looking 
up  surprised. 

"Can't  you  guess  who  it  is?"  he  answered,  eying  me  side- 
ways. 

"No,  unless  it's  Mr.  Lincoln.  I  don't  know  any  other," 
I  answered. 

"It  is  not  Mr.  Lincoln,  for  he  never  heard  of  your  cousin. 
It  is  some  one  you  dislike,  and  for  good  reason,"  he  replied, 
slowly. 

"Some  one  I  dislike!"  I  answered,  trying  to  think  who  he 
could  mean. 

"Yes,  but  it  is  all  right,  I  hope.  It's — it's — Moth,"  he 
answered  at  last,  catching  his  breath. 

This  piece  of  news,  which  he  had  sought  to  lead  up  to  with 
so  much  pains,  and  which  if  I  had  not  been  so  dull  I  would 
have  guessed,  I  was  altogether  unprepared  to  hear.  Surely 
nothing  so  startling  could  have  been  dreamed  of,  and  repeat- 
ing the  name  over  and  over,  I  sat  staring  at  him,  unable  to 
say  more. 

"Yes,  Moth,"  he  went  on,  "the  rascal!  I  saw  the  letter 
on  her  table." 

"What  did  it  say?"  I  asked,  after  a  while,  scarce  able  to- 
speak. 

"I  could  only  read  the  name,  for  your  cousin  came  in  at 
the  moment,  and  made  such  an  ado  about  my  spying  into  her 
correspondence  that  I  was  frightened.  When  I  told  her  again 
and  again  that  I  had  not  read  a  word  the  letter  contained,  she 
finally  appeared  to  believe  what  I  said,  and  there  the  matter 
dropped." 

"Do  you  think  he  knows  I'm  here?"  I  asked,  foolishly,, 
feeling  sure  he  did. 

"I  am  afraid  so,  else  why  should  he  write  to  her?  He  must, 
have  found  out  that  you  stopped  off  here,  and  so  have  traced 
you.  Some  one  in  Rock  Island  has  written  him — betrayed 


178  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

you,  Gilbert,  I  fear,"  he  added,  coloring,  and  winding  his  line 
absently  about  the  stick  he  held. 

"Yes,  but  what  am  I  to  do?  I'll  not  let  Moth  take  me. 
I'd  throw  myself  into  the  river  first,"  I  answered,  scarce 
knowing  what  I  said. 

"No,  of  course  not;  and  if  it  turns  out  that  he  is  really 
after  you,  you  must  go  to  your  Uncle  Job.  It  is  only  a  few 
hours'  ride,  and  if  there  is  no  boat,  you  can  go  by  the  high- 
way. There  is  no  need  to  act  hastily,  though.  Let  us  watch 
and  see.  Maybe  it  is  all  right,  after  all." 

"No,  they're  after  me,  and  I'm  not  going  back  to  the 
house,"  I  answered,  determined  never  to  come  into  Moth's 
clutches. 

"That  will  never  do,  Gilbert.  We  will  go  home  and  spy 
out  the  ground,  as  I  have  said.  Moth  will  never  come  this 
far  on  so  uncertain  an  errand,"  he  added,  as  if  to  comfort  me. 

"Yes,  he  will,  now  that  he  has  found  out  I'm  here  and  he 
has  some  one  to  help  trap  me,"  I  answered,  thoughtlessly,  as 
I  should  not  have  done,  because  of  Cousin  Holland.  He, 
however,  took  no  notice  of  what  I  said,  but  taking  up  the 
oars  brought  us  to  the  shore,  and  securing  the  boat  we  started 
for  home,  much  cast  down  in  spirits. 


CHAPTER   XXV 

THE   CONSPIRATORS 

At  the  supper-table  Cousin  Angeline  gave  no  sign  except 
that  she  seemed  to  speak  more  kindly  than  was  her  wont  and 
to  put  herself  out  somewhat  to  add  to  my  comfort.  This  was 
so  unusual  that  by  and  by  if  she  but  offered  me  a  dish  or 
smiled,  I  was  ready  to  cry  out  with  fear.  For  what  more 
natural,  if  she  were  going  to  give  me  up,  than  that  she  should 
seek  to  lull  me  to  sleep  meanwhile  by  little  attentions  of  this 
nature.  Of  Moth  or  his  letter  she  said  not  a  word.  Nor  did 
she  so  much  as  look  at  Cousin  Holland,  who  sat  dumb,  with 
his  face  buried  in  his  plate.  Most  strange  of  all,  she  did  not 
speak  of  her  father  or  Rudley  and  James.  This  alarmed  me 
more  than  aught  else,  for  such  a  thing  had  never  happened 
before  that  I  could  remember.  Thus  I  found  nothing  to  com- 
fort me,  and  supper  being  over,  I  after  a  little  while  excused 
myself  and  went  to  bed;  but  sleep  did  not  visit  my  tired  eyes, 
and  at  the  first  peep  of  day  I  got  up  and  went  into  the  gar- 
den. Here  I  wandered  aimlessly  about  until  summoned  to 
breakfast.  Afterward,  still  more  disturbed,  my  mind  conjured 
up  a  thousand  improbable  things,  till  finally,  worn  out  with 
loss  of  sleep  and  worry,  I  entered  the  house,  and  slipping 
unobserved  into  the  parlor,  lay  down  on  a  settle  that  stood 
in  the  corner,  where  I  soon  fell  asleep.  How  long  I  had  thus 
lain  I  "do  not  know,  when  I  was  awakened  by  voices  in  the 
adjoining  room.  At  this  I  got  up,  greatly  alarmed,  for  of  way 
of  escape  there  was  none,  save  through  the  room  from  whence 
the  voices  came.  Listening  intently,  I  recognized  Cousin 
Angeline's  voice,  and  then,  almost  with  the  same  breath, 
Moth's.  Fearing  they  would  enter  the  room  where  I  lay, 
179 


180  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

I  secreted  myself,  and  luckily,  as  it  turned  out,  for  in  a  mo- 
ment the  parlor  door  was  thrown  open  and  Cousin  Angelina 
and  Moth  entered. 

"Your  letter,  Mrs.  Love,  notifying  me  of  Gilbert  being 
here  was  delayed,  not  being  properly  directed,"  Moth  went 
on,  finishing  what  he  had  been  saying;  "but  as  soon  as  it 
came  to  hand  I  wrote  you,  and  have  followed  as  quickly  as- 
I  could." 

"I  am  glad  you  have  come,"  Cousin  Angeline  replied,  seat- 
ing herself  on  the  settle  behind  which  I  was  hidden,  "for 
every  day  the  lad  is  away  from  his  aunt  and  her  restraining 
influence  is  greatly  to  his  disadvantage." 

"I  am  sure  of  that,  as  indeed  my  client  is,"  Moth 
answered,  striding  back  and  forth. 

"I  have  done  what  I  could  to  correct  his  morals  and 
abominable  habits,  and  while  there  is  nothing  positively  wicked 
about  him,  he  is  wayward,  and  I  can  plainly  see  a  tendency 
in  him  to  go  to  the  bad  that  nothing  but  strict  discipline  will 
overcome.  Miss  Holmes  has  probably  observed  this,  too,. 
Mr.  Miller?" 

"Moth,  if  you  please,  madam.  Yes,  she  has  noticed  the 
tendency  you  speak  of,  and  it  is  because  of  it  that  I  have 
hastened;  and  now  that  I  am  here,"  he  went  on,  "I  will  lose 
no  time  in  having  him  taken  before  the  court  and  his  aunt 
appointed  guardian.  His  uncle  abandoning  him  is  evidence 
of  his  unfitness,  so  there  will  be  no  trouble  this  time,  I  appre- 
hend." 

"Take  him  before  the  court!  What  for,  pray?  No,  no, 
you  will  never  get  him  that  way,"  Cousin  Angeline  answered, 
in  a  decided  voice. 

"Indeed,  madam,  why  not,  may  I  ask?" 

"There  will  be  delay,  and  in  the  end  you  will  be  defeated 
through  the  efforts  of  his  uncle  and,  I  fear,  my  husband, 
whose  heart  is  like  melted  butter." 

"Then  what  am  I  to  do?  for  have  him  I  will,"  Moth 
answered,  in  his  dogged  way. 


The  Conspirators  1 3 1 

"Of  course;  he  belongs  to  his  aunt,"  Cousin  Angeline 
replied.  "But  why  bother  the  courts  with  so  trifling  a  thing, 
Mr.  Miller?" 

"Moth,  I  said,  madam,  if  you  please — Moth.  I  fear  I  do 
not  quite  understand  your  meaning.  How  else,  pray,  can 
I  secure  him  except  through  the  courts?" 

"It  is  plain  enough.  Take  him  wherever  you  find  him. 
What  have  the  courts  to  do  with  his  going  back  to  his  aunt? 
It  will  be  time  enough  to  consult  them  afterward,  I  should 
think,"  she  answered,  as  if  there  was  no  other  way. 

"I  could  handle  him  easily  enough  if  I  could  once  get  him 
away  from  here,"  Moth  answered,  reflectively.  "There  is 
many  a  way  to  make  a  lad  keep  quiet,  or  silence  inquiry;  but 
how  to  get  him,  that  is  the  thing  that  sticks  me." 

"It  is  easy  enough  if  you  have  the  courage  and  tact,"  she 
replied,  decisively. 

"How,  madam?"  he  asked,  surprised. 

"Well,  in  this  way,  among  others.  He  is  in  the  habit  of 
stealing  off  to  a  little  inlet  below  the  town,  and  quite  out 
of  the  way  of  observation.  I  will  give  him  permission  to  go 
there  this  afternoon,  and  that  will  please  him,  for  he  would 
rather  idle  away  his  time  than  do  any  useful  thing.  He  will 
go  straight  to  the  inlet,  and  once  there  you  can  come  upon 
him  unawares,  and  in  a  place  where  he  can  neither  fly  nor 
make  himself  heard.  You  must  go  early,  however,  and  before 
my  husband  joins  him,  as  he  will  be  likely  to  do  later,  being 
that  way  inclined,  I  am  sorry  to  say." 

"That  is  all  right  as  far  as  it  goes,  madam,  but  after- 
ward?" Moth  asked,  doubtfully. 

"When  you  have  him,  capsize  his  boat,  and  every  one  will 
think  he  has  been  drowned.  Then  if  you  can't  get  him  away, 
you  are  sadly  lacking  in  resources,"  Cousin  Angeline  added, 
grimly,  as  if  to  spur  him  on. 

"Suppose  some  one  should  be  about.  You  can't  tell," 
Moth  answered,  dubiously. 

"There  will  be  no  one,  for  the  place  is  aside,  as  I  have 


1 82  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

said.  No  one  frequents  it  except  Gilbert  and  my  husband. 
And  once  he  is  in  your  possession,  you  can  drop  down  the  river 
to  the  first  town,  and  from  there  take  him  home;  and  good 
riddance  to  the  little  glutton." 

"Well,  the  plan  seems  all  right,  madam,  and  I  will  try  it, 
and  am  much  obliged  to  you  for  your  advice,  and  the  hint 
about  overturning  the  boat,"  Moth  answered,  with  a  chuckle, 
as  he  turned  toward  the  door.  "Do  not  fail  to  have  him  on 
hand,  though.  And  about  another  matter  I  had  nearly  for- 
gotten," he  added,  facing  about.  "You  have  been  very 
obliging,  and  my  client  directs  me  to  say  that  she  will  lose 
no  time  in  recompensing  you  for  your  trouble,  and  of  this  you 
may  rest  assured." 

"Thank  you;  I  have  not  expected  any  recompense,  but 
only  sought  to  do  my  duty  by  the  unfortunate  lad.  How- 
ever, she  can  do  as  she  likes  in  the  matter,"  Cousin  Angeline 
answered,  as  if  greatly  pleased  at  the  idea  of  a  reward.  "Do 
not  fear  in  regard  to  Gilbert,  Mr.  Miller.  He  will  be  on 
hand,  as  I  have  said,  or  if  anything  should  prevent  his  going 
this  afternoon,  he  will  be  there  to-morrow.  It  would  be 
impossible  for  him  to  keep  away  from  the  river  two  days  in 
succession,  the  little  vagabond!" 

"Thank  you;  and  now  as  the  matter  is  fully  understood, 
I  will  go  and  make  the  necessary  arrangements,"  Moth 
answered ;  and  bidding  her  good  day,  took  his  departure. 

When  the  street  door  closed  behind  him  and  his  footsteps 
could  no  longer  be  heard,  Cousin  Angeline  left  the  room,  and 
putting  on  her  bonnet,  followed  him,  but  for  what  purpose 
I  could  not  imagine.  Nor  did  it  matter,  for  when  she  was 
gone  I  sprang  up,  and  not  losing  a  moment,  gathered  such 
articles  of  clothing  as  I  could  lay  hands  on,  and  wrapping 
them  about  some  biscuits  I  found  in  the  cupboard,  slipped  out 
of  the  back  door  and  so  into  the  alley.  Following  this  in  the 
direction  of  the  country,  I  quickly  reached  the  forest,  and 
hiding  myself  in  its  depths,  soon  found  my  way  to  the  road 
that  led  to  Appletop. 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

LOST   IN  THE    FOREST 

However  much  we  may  desire  to  retain  the  unconscious 
spirit  of  youth,  it  vanishes  with  life's  first  nipping  frost,  and 
although  the  leaves  may  not  fall  in  a  night,  they  have  no  sap 
or  potency  left  in  them.  Thus  it  was  with  me  from  that 
melancholy  day  when  my  father  went  down  broken  and  dis- 
heartened. The  shell,  however,  had  not  yet  fallen  apart,  but 
from  the  day  that  I  left  Wild  Plum  childhood  vanished,  and 
the  weeks  were  like  years  in  growth  and  knowledge  of  worldly 
things.  So  that  now,  at  twelve,  my  youth  was  already  a  thing 
of  the  past,  and  not  to  be  considered  in  any  other  light.  It 
mattered  not  that  others  did  not  see  the  change.  This  pleased 
me  rather  than  otherwise;  but  Moth  made  me  less  than 
I  was — a  mere  creature  not  worthy  of  thought — and  because 
of  it  I  hated  him,  and  my  aunt  not  less.  They  threatened  all 
I  at  present  regarded,  so  fast  had  I  grown  in  love  of  things 
apart;  and  to  shake  them  off,  and  in  all  matters  go  contrary 
to  their  wishes,  was  now  uppermost  in  the  desire  of  my  heart. 
In  this  I  was  again  successful,  and  going  forward  in  the  bright 
sunshine,  my  heart  lightened  as  I  reached  the  summit  of  the 
bluff  and  looked  down  on  the  village  I  had  left  behind.  Its. 
scattered  houses  lay  bathed  in  the  afternoon's  sun,  and  beyond 
them  the  great  river,  smooth  and  glistening,  stretched  away 
on  either  side,  broken  only  by  the  lofty  trees  that  lined  its 
eastern  shore.  To  the  south  the  little  inlet,  bordered  about 
with  willows,  where  Cousin  Holland  and  I  were  wont  to  go, 
I  could  plainly  see;  and  in  the  heart  of  the  village  his  house 
stood  out  among  its  neighbors,  as  if  somehow  greater  than 
them  all.  Looking,  I  imagined  I  could  see  Cousin  Angeline 
183 


184  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

watching  from  her  door,  and  beckoning  me  to  return.  Know- 
ing it  could  not  be,  I  yet  was  none  the  less  alarmed,  and 
turning,  ran  on,  the  quicker  to  hide  myself  in  the  forest  that 
lay  behind. 

As  I  went  forward  my  spirits  mounted  with  every  step;  for 
such  is  ever  the  elasticity  of  our  young  life,  its  shadows  losing 
themselves  in  the  smallest  ray  of  light.  Now  again  I  was 
free,  beneath  the  spreading  trees  and  overhanging  sky,  and 
hurrying  on,  a  frenzy  seized  me,  and  I  sang  and  cried  aloud 
like  one  crazed.  Never  had  the  odors  of  the  woods  seemed 
so  sweet  or  the  flowers  that  bordered  the  road  so  full  of 
beauty.  Hastening,  the  murmurings  of  the  forest  and  the 
sight  of  the  birds  flying  back  and  forth  across  my  path,  or 
running  forward  in  semblance  of  fear,  little  by  little  soothed 
my  mind  and  made  me  share  with  them  the  peaceful  sweet- 
ness of  the  surrounding  scene.  The  path  I  followed,  for  it 
•was  little  more,  now  plain,  now  obscure,  had  no  set  rule,  but 
went  here  and  there,  as  in  the  old  days  of  Indian  life.  If  the 
trees  were  dense,  it  went  around  them,  as  it  did  the  rocks  and 
hills.  So,  too,  with  the  slumbering  pools  and  impassable 
stretches  that  lay  along  the  way.  These  it  dodged  as  if  in 
play,  leaving  Nature's  tracing  undisturbed  as  in  the  grace  of 
its  first  creation.  Each  turn  in  the  meanderings  of  the  road, 
as  if  in  jealousy,  hid  some  mystery  of  its  own.  A  vista  or 
cluster  of  trees  it  might  be,  or  perhaps  a  distant  view  of 
some  quiet  valley,  clothed  in  vestments  of  color  and  asleep 
in  its  hazy  depths.  Thus  I  went  on,  disregardful,  noting 
only  what  was  about  me,  softly  beguiled,  and  after  a  while 
silent,  plucking  at  the  wild  flowers  by  the  way,  or  bathing  my 
face  in  their  soft  perfume.  Coming  in  this  mood  upon  a  wild- 
plum  tree  that  grew  beside  the  road,  I  gathered  its  leaves  in 
remembrance  of  my  home,  and  pressing  them  to  my  lips, 
thrust  them  into  my  bosom,  wet  with  my  tears.  In  this  way 
the  afternoon  passed,  the  openings  in  the  forest  showing 
more  and  more  the  sun  hastening  to  its  setting. 

As  I  proceeded,  idly  and  unconcerned  as  to  what  might  be 


Lost  in  the  Forest  185 

before  me,  the  sound  of  a  galloping  horse  reached  my  ear, 
and  turning,  I  discovered  Moth  coming  toward  me  at  full 
speed.  As  I  stood  gazing,  unable  to  move,  scarce  to  breathe, 
another  horseman,  turning  into  the  road  from  the  overhang- 
ing shrubbery,  followed  on.  Wondering  idly  whether  he  were 
a  confederate  or  some  one  in  waiting,  my  senses  came  back 
to  me,  and  turning,  I  plunged  without  thought  into  the  tangled 
undergrowth  that  bordered  the  road  where  I  stood.  As  I  did 
so  Moth  called  my  name,  but  not  regarding  it,  I  hastened  on, 
seeking  only  to  pursue  a  course  he  could  neither  trace  nor 
follow.  When  I  had  gone  some  distance  in  this  distracted 
way,  the  report  of  a  pistol  reached  me,  followed  a  moment 
later  by  another  discharge.  Startled  anew,  I  hurried  on,  and 
faster  than  before,  not  knowing  what  it  meant,  nor  caring, 
so  that  I  might  only  hide  myself  in  the  forest  depths.  Thus 
I  ran,  always  in  the  direction  of  the  deep  woods,  making  such 
haste  as  I  could,  often  falling,  but  paying  little  heed  if  I  but 
made  some  headway.  In  this  way  I  came  at  last  upon  an 
opening  in  the  trees,  and  here  I  stopped  and  threw  myself 
upon  the  ground,  worn  out  with  fatigue  and  the  fear  that  had 
oppressed  me.  When  I  was  somewhat  rested  it  was  already 
growing  dark,  so  that  I  could  not  retrace  my  steps  had 
I  desired.  This,  however,  I  had  no  thought  of  doing;  the 
forest  hid  me,  and  I  welcomed  its  solitude  and  deepening 
shadows  as  a  cover  under  which  I  was  secure.  Looking  about 
me,  in  the  center  of  the  opening  a  giant  sycamore  reared  its 
height  far  above  the  surrounding  trees.  Dead  and  glistening 
white,  its  extended  limbs,  long  since  fallen,  had  left  an  open- 
ing to  the  sky,  and  about  this  the  trees  reached  out  their 
arms  like  beggars  seeking  alms.  On  the  edge  of  the  cleared 
space,  and  as  a  tracing  to  the  picture,  shrubs  and  wild  rasp- 
berries grew,  and  dense,  so  as  to  form  an  impassable  barrier 
save  where  I  stood. 

Beside  the  dead  tree,  whence  I  could  see  the  overhanging 
sky,  I  determined  to  pass  the  night;  and  hastening  ere  dark- 
ness set  in,  I  gathered  a  handful  of  berries,  and  placing  them 


1 86  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

beside  my  little  store  of  food,  sat  down  in  happy  contentment 
to  my  evening  meal.  Ere  this  was  finished,  darkness  had 
closed  in,  and  fatigued  with  the  events  of  the  day  and  what 
had  gone  before,  I  stretched  my  body  on  the  soft  grass  with 
the  dead  sycamore  for  a  pillow.  Looking  up  as  I  lay  out- 
stretched, the  sky,  which  was  before  clear,  had  now  become 
overcast,  gray,  filmy  clouds  scattering  themselves  across  its 
face  like  puffs  of  steam,  and  seeming  to  fly  rather  than  float 
in  the  summer  air.  Nor  was  this  the  only  change.  The 
treetops,  no  longer  still,  gave  forth  faint  murmurings,  sway- 
ing and  curtesying  to  each  other  as  if  in  welcome  or  expect- 
ancy of  some  coming  event.  The  wind  rising  as  I  gazed,  filled 
the  air  with  fitful  meanings,  not  unlike  fear,  and  soon  flying 
leaves  and  bits  of  wood  tossed  from  the  swaying  trees,  falling 
on  my  face,  gave  notice  that  the  storm  was  gaining  in  strength. 
The  moan  of  the  forest  as  the  wind  whipped  the  branches  of 
the  trees  presently  rose  into  wild  uproar,  like  the  mad  rush 
of  multitudes  of  men.  Then,  as  if  worn  out  with  the  effort, 
it  would  die  away  into  pitiful  murmurings,  only  to  spring  up 
again  a  moment  later  with  greater  fury  than  before.  Thus 
as  I  watched,  the  storm  came  on  with  ever-increasing  tumult 
and  confusion  of  sounds,  but  orderly  and  in  sequence,  like 
a  great  orchestra  getting  under  way.  The  whirl  and  roar  of 
the  wind  as  the  rising  tempest  swept  the  impeding  forest  in 
no  wise  disturbed  my  repose,  but  soothed,  rather,  both  my 
body  and  mind.  Now  again  I  was  once  more  at  Wild  Plum, 
and  listening,  as  in  childhood,  to  the  woods  and  the  voices  of 
the  air  and  the  night. 

No  feature  of  Nature's  storehouse,  it  may  be  said,  is  so- 
full  of  grandeur  and  expectancy  as  a  storm  in  the  forest. 
A  scourge,  maybe,  but  not  in  the  sense  of  punishment,  but 
of  playfulness  and  reviving  life!  A  carnival  of  the  air,  a 
frolicking  of  the  atoms,  where  moderation  gives  place  to 
fantasies  and  all  the  world  joins  in  the  fullness  of  life!  Many, 
I  know,  do  not  look  upon  such  things  with  any  pleasure,  but 
for  the  most  part  all  such  are  city  born,  and  not  used  to  wide 


Lost  in  the  Forest  187 

expanses  where  the  wind  is  free  to  work  its  will,  nor  cumbered 
about  with  the  devices  of  men  that  serve  to  stay  its  strength 
and  hinder  its  progress.  To  such,  storms  are  fraught  with 
direful  happenings,  in  which  the  wind  and  lightning  are 
dreaded  agents;  but  not  so  do  those  who  are  country  bred 
look  upon  the  tempest.  '  Nor  did  I,  but  lay  with  upturned  face, 
harkening  to  each  sound  as  if  it  conveyed  some  form  of 
speech,  which  I  have  no  doubt  it  did. 

In  a  little  while,  and  as  couriers  might  carry  the  news, 
flashes  of  lightning  shone  through  the  trees  and  spun  out 
across  the  open  sky  until  presently  the  wide  expanse  of 
heaven  was  ablaze  with  the  reflected  light.  Counting  from 
these  to  the  thunder  that  followed,  I  kept  track  in  idle  curi- 
osity of  the  storm  as  it  approached.  Nor  was  it  long  delayed, 
but  came  on,  preceded  by  flurries  of  rain,  which  the  wind, 
catching  up,  whipped  into  shreds  of  mist  and  spray.  At  last, 
as  if  satisfied  with  the  preparation  made  for  its  coming,  the 
storm  burst,  and  not  lightly,  as  it  sometimes  does,  but  del- 
uging the  earth  with  water  and  overspreading  the  sky  with 
masses  of  phosphorescent  light  and  deep  reverberating 
thunder.  Rising  to  my  feet,  I  sought  shelter  behind  the  great 
tree,  harkening  to  the  wild  roar  of  the  tempest  as  it  swept 
past,  echoing  and  reechoing  through  the  forest  like  the  beat- 
ing of  the  ocean  on  some  rockbound  coast.  In  the  midst  of 
this,  and  confusing,  a  sound  as  of  booming  cannon  caught 
my  ear.  Listening,  I  thought  it  the  cry  of  a  wild  beast,  but 
in  a  moment,  catching  the  direction  more  clearly,  found  it 
came  from  the  hollow  of  the  great  tree  beside  which  I  stood. 
Thus  the  night  wore  on,  the  rain  after  a  while  dying  away, 
but  the  wind,  as  if  in  recompense,  increasing  each  moment  in 
violence,  its  wild  shrieking  and  the  mad  rush  of  the  trees  as 
they  bent  this  way  and  that  rising  and  falling  like  no  sound 
that  man  can  describe  or  imitate.  For  in  such  things  Nature 
claims  its  sole  prerogative,  and  strive  as  we  may,  we  cannot 
in  any  way  mimic  its  voices  or  varying  moods. 

Entertained  as  one  bred  in  the  city  might  be  at  a  play, 


1 88  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

I  neither  sought  nor  desired  sleep;  but  as  the  storm  reached 
its  climax  a  tremor  shook  my  frame  and  fear  laid  hold  of  me, 
as  if  some  great  and  pressing  danger  threatened.  Of  what 
nature,  however,  or  from  whence,  I  could  not  tell,  for  in  no 
way  were  the  sounds  that  reached  me  different  from  those 
I  had  heard  before.  What  was  it,  then?  Some  instinct  of 
life  that  cried  out  within  me,  or  a  voice  of  the  night  that  bade 
me  beware!  Listening,  I  could  distinguish  nothing,  nor 
make  aught  of  my  fear.  Weak  and  scarce  able  to  stand, 
I  reached  out  my  hand  to  steady  myself  against  the  great 
tree,  and  doing  so,  found  it  rocking  in  the  storm  like  a  gigan- 
tic pendulum  turned  bottom  side  up.  This  it  was,  then,  that 
had  caused  my  tremblings.  Its  silent  movements,  unnoticed 
in  the  darkness  of  the  night,  had  yet  in  some  mysterious  way 
conveyed  a  note  of  warning,  and  I,  as  if  it  were  some  kindred 
spirit,  had  felt  its  vibrations,  and  so  was  filled  with  fear. 
Conscious  the  tree  was  about  to  fall,  I  drew  back,  but  unable 
to  make  out  the  direction  it  would  take,  I  stood  still,  not 
knowing  which  way  to  turn.  At  last,  guided  by  the  storm, 
I  sprang  to  one  side,  and  then,  as  if  only  awaiting  my  move- 
ments, the  great  tree,  leaning  more  and  more,  fell  with 
a  mighty  crash  on  the  spot  where  I  had  stood.  Outstretched 
before  me,  it  lay  like  some  huge  animal,  its  glistening  trunk 
towering  far  above  my  head.  Seeing  it,  a  cry  of  terror  burst 
from  my  lips,  and  throwing  myself  on  my  face,  I  gave  thanks 
to  God  for  my  escape  from  death. 

Rising  to  my  feet  after  a  while,  I  looked  about  to  find  the 
storm,  as  if  only  awaiting  the  overthrow  of  the  great  tree,  had 
died  away,  and  the  moon  coming  out  full  and  clear,  cast  its 
peaceful  light  over  the  silent  glade.  Seeking  some  spot 
not  drenched  with  rain  where  I  might  pass  the  night,  the 
hollow  of  the  fallen  tree,  like  some  great  cavern  partly  lighted, 
loomed  before  me.  Here  I  determined  to  find  a  bed,  and 
entering  its  secure  depths,  stretched  my  weary  body  on  its 
smooth  surface,  and  in  a  moment  was  lost  in  dreams  of  Con- 
stance and  Little  Sandy. 


CHAPTER   XXVII 

IN   THE   TIGER'S   MOUTH 

When  I  awoke  the  sun  was  high  in  the  heavens  and  the  air 
filled  with  the  songs  of  birds  and  the  sweet  fragrance  of  the 
woods.  Lying  still  and  resting,  in  no  mood  to  move,  I  looked 
out  on  the  world  from  a  great  fissure  in  the  side  of  the  tree 
where  I  had  made  my  bed.  Far  off  in  the  ambient  air,  and 
immovable,  an  eagle  pinioned,  as  if  pondering  on  the  great 
tree's  overthrow.  Near  by  and  alert,  a  bluejay  uttered  its 
discordant  cries,  and  on  a  projecting  limb,  almost  within  my 
hand,  a  squirrel  sat  upright,  rubbing  his'nose  and  looking  down 
in  wonder  on  the  fallen  monarch.  Thus  outstretched,  and 
with  no  thought  of  stirring,  a  noise  reached  me  from  the 
opening  of  the  tree,  and  sitting  up,  I  saw  my  bundle  tossed 
this  way  and  that  by  a  cub  no  bigger  than  a  three-months' 
puppy.  This  at  first  in  play,  but  by  and  by  coming  on  the 
odor  of  the  food,  the  youngster's  mood  changed,  and  it  tore 
at  the  package  as  if  ravenous  with  hunger.  Seeing  this, 
I  sprang  out,  and  grasping  the  brute  by  the  neck,  threw  it  to 
one  side.  In  no  way  hurt,  it  yet  uttered  a  doleful  cry,  as 
these  animals  will.  Not  regarding  its  complainings  in  any 
way,  I  busied  myself  putting  my  bundle  to  rights,  until  pres- 
ently, the  cries  continuing,  they  were  answered  by  a  fierce 
growl  from  the  opening  of  the  glade.  Looking  in  the  direc- 
tion from  whence  it  came,  I  saw  a  huge  bear  coming  toward 
me,  half  uprisen,  her  teeth  showing  white  and  cruel  against 
the  deep  color  of  her  blood-red  mouth.  Transfixed,  I  fell  to 
trembling,  for  of  escape  I  could  see  no  way,  save  that  from 
which  the  brute  came  on,  dense  undergrowth  barring  the  road 
and  making  flight  impossible,  even  if  I  could  have  hoped  to 


190  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

outstrip  the  fierce  creature.  While  thus  bewildered,  not 
knowing  what  to  do,  the  hollow  of  the  tree  where  I  had 
passed  the  night  caught  my  eye,  and  with  the  sight  hope 
revived  in  my  heart.  For  there  at  least  the  brute  might  not 
dare  to  follow.  Thinking  thus,  I  sprang  into  the  opening, 
but  the  enraged  animal,  after  smelling  about  as  if  fearing 
a  trap,  being  assured,  followed  resolutely  on.  Seeing  this, 
I  hurried  forward,  at  first  upright,  and  then  stooping,  and 
finally  on  my  hands  and  knees.  As  the  tree  contracted  and 
my  progress  was  lessened,  I  could  feel  the  breath  of  the  savage 
animal  stir  my  hair,  while  her  angry  growls  filled  my  ears  as 
if  she  were  already  upon  me.  Glancing  back,  I  saw  her  some 
way  off,  but  coming  on  slowly  and  as  if  in  fear  of  being  caught 
in  the  tree.  At  this  I  sought  to  crowd  myself  forward  where 
she  could  not  come,  but  presently  the  opening  becoming  con- 
tracted, so  that  I  could  make  no  further  headway,  I  knew 
not  what  to  do.  Now,  indeed,  hope  died  within  me,  and  no 
longer  able  to  look  back  or  scarce  move  my  body,  I  lay  still, 
listening  to  the  deep  breathing  of  the  animal  as  it  came 
steadily  toward  me.  At  last  in  an  agony  of  fear  I  put  forth 
all  my  strength  anew,  and  to  my  great  joy  the  walls  of  the 
tree,  which  had  before  been  hard  and  unyielding,  now  crum- 
bled and  fell  apart  under  the  pressure  of  my  outstretched 
hands.  While  thus  striving  to  make  some  headway,  light 
broke  in  on  my  prison,  and  looking  forward,  I  was  gladdened 
by  the  sight  of  an  opening  a  few  feet  away,  caused  by  the 
breaking  of  the  tree  in  its  fall. 

Cheered  by  what  I  saw,  I  struggled  forward  with  new  cour- 
age, making  a  way,  sometimes  with  my  hands,  but  more  often 
with  my  head  and  face.  In  this  manner  I  at  last  reached  the 
opening;  but  now,  when  safety  seemed  assured,  my  strength 
left  me,  and  I  lay  as  one  dead,  unable  to  move  or  cry  aloud. 
Regaining  some  mastery  over  myself  after  a  time,  I  dragged 
my  body  through  the  opening,  my  garments  torn  and  my  face 
and  hands  dripping  with  blood.  This  I  did  not  much  regard, 
and  revived  by  the  cool  air  and  the  thought  that  I  was  free, 


In  the  Tiger's  Mouth  191 

my  strength  came  back,  and  from  lying  unable  to  stir  I  had 
now  no  fear  at  all.  Stooping  down,  I  looked  into  the  open- 
ing, and  fortunate  it  was,  for  the  fierce  brute,  discovering 
my  escape,  was  already  backing  from  the  tree.  Frightened 
anew  at  this,  I  stuck  my  face  into  the  opening,  and  cried  out 
in  rage,  as  if  daring  the  creature  to  come  on.  At  this  she 
stopped,  and  after  a  moment,  answering  my  challenge  with 
an  angry  growl,  started  anew  in  my  direction.  Coming  a  little 
way,  she  stopped  again,  and  despite  my  cries,  turned  back. 
At  this,  observing  her  cub,  and  scarce  knowing  what  I  did, 
I  ran  and  caught  it  in  my  arms,  and  returning,  thrust  it  into 
the  narrow  opening,  wrenching  its  limbs  to  make  it  cry  with 
pain.  No  sooner  had  I  done  this  than  the  mother  turned 
back,  growling  in  fierce  anger  and  tearing  at  the  sides  of  the 
tree  with  her  teeth  and  claws  in  vain  effort  to  reach  her  off- 
spring. Seeing  this,  I  fell  to  beating  the  poor  thing  with  all 
my  strength,  so  as  to  make  it  cry  the  louder.  When,  how- 
ever, some  time  had  passed  and  the  bear  could  make  no  fur- 
ther headway,  and  made  as  if  she  would  turn  back,  I  thrust 
the  cub  far  into  the  opening,  and  giving  it  a  cruel  stroke,  left 
it  there. 

Hastening  to  the  spot  where  my  bundle  lay,  I  snatched 
it  up,  and  turning,  fled  through  the  opening  of  the  glade  into 
the  forest  beyond.  Overcome  with  fear,  and  not  regarding 
the  direction  I  took,  I  ran  on,  looking  back  with  each  step  to 
see  if  I  were  followed.  At  last,  worn  out  with  fatigue  and 
hunger,  I  could  go  no  farther,  and  throwing  myself  on  the 
ground,  burst  into  a  paroxysm  of  tears.  Now  indeed  was 
I  forlorn.  Lost  in  the  forest  and  beset  by  wild  beasts,  what 
danger  might  I  not  fear!  Thus  I  lay,  until  at  last,  rested  and 
reassured,  I  rose  to  my  feet.  Above  my  head  as  I  looked  up 
the  spreading  trees,  serene  and  calm,  bent  over  me  with  stead- 
fast gaze,  and  as  if  in  pity  and  tender  sympathy.  Listening, 
I  heard  in  their  soft  murmurings,  melodies  I  knew,  sweet 
sounds  that  might  be  the  voices  of  angels  watching  over  the 
lost  of  earth  or  guarding  their  departing  souls  to  the  portals 


192  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

of  Heaven  above.  Comforted,  I  went  forward,  and  in  a  little 
while,  coming  to  a  meandering  stream,  took  off  my  torn 
clothes,  and  casting  them  aside,  cleansed  myself  in  its  limpid 
waters.  Putting  on  new  garments,  I  looked  about  for  some 
place  to  eat  my  morning  meal,  and  this  I  saw  a  little  way  off, 
beside  a  trickling  spring,  rimmed  about  with  flowers  and 
verdant  mosses.  On  its  edge,  as  I  approached,  a  thrush 
refreshed  himself  in  its  cool  depths,  and  waiting  till  he  was 
gone,  I  took  out  my  store  of  food,  and  sitting  down  beside 
the  sparkling  water,  ate  my  fill.  Then  burying  my  face  in  its 
depths,  I  arose,  and  put  the  little  food  I  had  remaining  in  my 
pocket,  and  refreshed  and  hopeful,  started  on  my  way. 

Now  the  trees  took  on  a  brighter  look,  and  swaying  and 
curtesying  this  way  and  that  as  I  went  forward,  seemed  as 
if  pointing  the  direction  I  should  go.  Striving  to  follow  some 
given  course,  noon  passed,  and  so  the  afternoon,  without  sign 
of  man  or  any  clew  to  guide  me.  At  last,  as  night  approached, 
my  strength  failed  me;  and  now  the  birds,  as  if  in  sympathy 
with  my  mood,  no  longer  fluttered  their  gay  plumage,  but  flew 
back  and  forth  in  the  gathering  twilight,  swiftly  and  silently 
hastening  to  their  hiding-place  for  the  night.  In  the  open 
before  me,  however,  and  as  if  to  cheer  my  solitude,  a  thrasher 
flew  forward,  and  at  intervals,  running  on,  looked  back,  say- 
ing as  in  words:  "Come  on;  this  is  your  road."  At  last,  its 
mission  done  or  tiring  with  the  effort,  it  flew  away,  and  I  saw 
it  no  more.  Watching  its  flight,  the  treetops  still  reflected 
back  the  hue  of  the  departing  sun,  and  midway  in  their  height 
some  trace  of  yellow  was  yet  to  be  seen,  but  near  the  ground 
were  already  black  as  night  with  the  fast-gathering  shadows. 
At  this  moment,  when  hope  was  dead  within  me,  I  came,  and 
without  thought,  upon  a  beaten  road,  but  whether  that  which 
I  had  left  the  night  before  or  not  I  did  not  know  nor  care. 
Elated,  my  strength  returned,  and  sitting  down  I  took  what 
food  I  had  and  ate  it,  thankful  for  so  much,  and  without 
thought  of  the  morrow.  Strengthened,  I  started  afresh,  but 
in  what  direction  I  could  not  tell.  Thus  I  went  on  till  the 


In  the  Tiger's  Mouth  193 

moon  arose,  but  without  sight  of  man  or  house.  Nor  was 
there  sound  of  any  kind,  save  the  sighing  of  the  forest,  all 
Nature  sleeping  as  if  in  recompense  for  the  debauch  of  the 
previous  night.  Going  forward,  cheerful  of  heart,  I  was  not 
much  surprised  when  a  light  flashed  out  before  me,  and  then 
another  and  another.  Pushing  on,  I  came  after  a  while  upon 
a  little  village  of  huts  scattered  along  the  highway,  some  near 
the  road  and  others  farther  off.  Peering  through  the  window 
of  the  first  I  came  to,  in  hopeful  expectancy  of  food  and  lodg- 
ing, a  comely  woman,  large,  and  fine  of  face,  sat  on  a  bench, 
her  children  gathered  about  her  kneeling  at  their  evening 
prayers.  Of  room,  however,  there  was  scarce  enough  to 
swing  a  cat,  and  this  so  crowded  as  not  to  afford  place  for 
another;  and  so,  with  a  longing  look  at  the  little  group,  I  went 
on  to  the  house  beyond.  Here  there  were  only  three  chil- 
dren, as  I  could  plainly  see,  but  as  if  the  saving  had  been 
known  in  advance,  the  place  was  made  to  fit,  and  so  there 
was  no  room  for  more.  The  next  house,  dark  and  forbid- 
ding, gave  back  no  response  to  my  knocking,  and  so  I  went 
on  to  the  fourth,  a  little  hut  standing  close  beside  the  road. 
Here  there  was  sickness,  and  though  they  bade  me  stay, 
I  could  not  find  it  in  my  heart  to  thus  obtrude  myself  upon 
their  gentle  hospitality.  At  the  hut  beyond  they  would  have 
welcomed  me,  but  a  guest  already  filled  the  space,  and  so* 
they  could  offer  me  no  place  where  I  could  lie. 

In  this  way  I  went  on,  now  somewhat  depressed,  till 
I  reached  the  extremity  of  the  little  village,  and  here  I  came 
upon  a  building,  larger  than  the  others,  and  standing  back 
from  the  road,  as  if  courting  greater  privacy.  A  dull  light 
showed  in  its  single  window,  but  high  up,  so  that  I  could  not 
scan  the  interior  as  I  had  the  others.  Hearing  voices, 
I  knocked,  confident  of  a  welcome,  so  imposing  was  the  struc- 
ture. For  a  moment  silence  followed  my  summons,  and  then 
a  voice  bade  me  enter.  Lifting  the  latch,  I  opened  the  door 
and  went  in;  but  entering,  no  one  spoke  nor  said  aught  of 
welcome  as  I  stood  looking  about  me.  Of  the  room,  it  was. 


194  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

the  size  of  the  building,  and  without  furniture  of  any  kind, 
save  a  bench  that  ran  beside  the  wall.  On  this  I  presently 
made  out  two  men,  for  of  light  there  was  none  save  from 
a  lantern  that  stood  on  the  floor,  clouded  with  dirt  and  smoke. 
This  I  thought  strange;  but  more  surprising  still,  a  man,  half- 
sitting,  half-reclining,  in  the  farther  corner  of  the  room,  his 
legs  securely  fastened  to  a  huge  ring  fixed  in  the  floor. 
Startled,  I  turned  about  and  would  have  fled,  but  one  of  the 
men,  who  had  been  seated,  springing  between  me  and  the 
•door,  cried  out: 

"Gilbert  Holmes!  by  all  the  gods  of  Greece  and  Rome!" 

Hearing  him,  I  needed  nothing  more  to  tell  me  it  was 
Moth;  and  alas!  he  barred  the  way — and  of  exit  there  was  no 
other.  Seeing  this,  I  stood  still,  looking  into  his  face,  my  own 
aflame  with  anger  and  shame. 

"Thank  you,  my  lad,  for  saving  me  further  trouble,"  he 
went  on,  with  sarcastic  glee.  "I  have  had  many  setbacks 
lately,  but  things  at  last  seem  to  be  coming  my  way.  A  rob- 
ber and  a  runaway  in  twenty-four  hours  will  do  pretty  well  for 
an  amateur.  One  I  capture,  and  the  other  comes  to  me  of 
his  own  accord.  Yes,  I  am  certainly  in  luck";  and  Moth 
•chuckled,  as  if  fortune  was  at  last  favoring  him  beyond  all 
other  men.  "Come,  my  lad,"  he  continued,  after  a  moment's 
pause,  seeing  I  did  not  speak;  "do  not  stand  there  dumb, 
but  tell  me  what  good  fortune  brings  you  into  my  hands." 

"It's  not  that  I  want  to  see  you,"  I  answered,  at  a  loss 
whether  to  answer  him  or  no. 

"Of  course  not,  my  dear.  You  have  not  shown  any  liking 
for  my  company,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  though  I  mean  you  no 
harm.  But  I  hope  it  will  be  different  hereafter,"  he  answered, 
leering  at  me. 

"It  will  not,  sir!  You  have  no  right  to  pursue  me,  and 
I  will  never  go  with  you;  I'll  die  first." 

"Oh,  yes,  you  will!  And  I  will  not  let  you  get  away  again, 
•either,"  he  answered,  confidently. 

"You  can't  fasten  me  so  I'll  not  escape.     I'd  kill  you  if 


In  the  Tiger's  Mouth  195 

I  couldn't  get  away  without,"  I  answered,  my  anger  passing 
all  bounds. 

"You  would,  would  you,  you  little  devil!  But  what 
I  want  is  for  the  best,  and  go  back  with  me  you  shall,"  he 
answered,  determinedly,  and  as  if  that  ended  the  matter. 

"I  say  I'll  not — never!  You  think  me  a  child,  and  I  was, 
but  you  have  made  me  something  more.  Don't  come  near 
me!  I'll  never  let  you  take  me  alive!"  I  screamed,  as  he  took 
a  step  in  my  direction,  my  anger  growing  to  white  heat. 

"Tut,  tut,  child!  Do  not  fly  into  such  a  passion.  Listen 
to  reason.  I  am  not  going  to  harm  you,"  he  replied,  sooth- 
ingly. 

"What  is  all  this  about,  anyway?"  the  man  who  had  been 
seated  beside  Moth  here  interposed,  coming  forward  and 
holding  the  lantern  aloft  so  as  to  see  me  the  better.  "Good 
God!  lad,  what  is  the  matter  with  your  face?"  he  went  on. 
"You  look  as  if  you  had  been  run  over  by  a  harrow." 

"It  was  scratched  in  the  woods,"  I  replied,  quieting 
down. 

"Why,  it  is  seamed  and  slashed  like  a  piece  of  raw  meat. 
No,  no,  the  brush  never  did  that,  lad!"  he  went  on,  examin- 
ing it  more  carefully. 

"It's  nothing,  sir,  and  will  be  all  right  in  the  morning," 
I  answered. 

"Maybe,  but  for  fear  I'll  rub  some  salve  on  it  to  help  it 
along,"  he  answered;  and  going  to  a  small  cupboard,  brought 
back  a  cup  of  grease,  which  he  smeared  over  my  face. 
"There,  that  will  do  for  to-night,  and  in  the  morning  I  will 
dress  it  again." 

"You  are  foolish  to  waste  grease  or  sympathy  on  him, 
jailer,"  Moth  interposed.  "That  is  the  lad  we  have  been 
looking  for  all  day,  and  a  precious  sly  one  he  is,  too." 

"Well,  he  does  not  look  it,"  the  jailer  answered,  "but 
frank  about  the  eyes  as  my  own  boy,  though  his  face  is  not 
much  to  speak  of  in  its  present  shape." 

"I'm  as  honest,  sir,  as  I  can  be,  and  this  man  has  no  busi- 


196  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

ness  to  say  I'm  not,  nor  claim  any  rights  over  me, ' '  I  answered, 
appealingly. 

"Do  not  let  him  fool  you,  jailer.  Those  brown  eyes  of  his 
have  more  deviltry  in  them  than  there  is  in  that  highwayman's 
whole  body,"  Moth  answered,  looking  across  at  the  man  in 
the  corner,  who  had  straightened  up  and  now  sat  silently 
regarding  us. 

"I'm  not  bad,"  I  cried,  laying  hold  of  the  jailer's  hand, 
"and  I  haven't  harmed  any  one,  nor  taken  what  didn't  belong 
to  me." 

"I  am  sure  of  it,"  he  answered,  kindly. 

"I  told  you  he  would  fool  you,  for  in  cunning  and  evasion 
he  is  Satan's  own  imp,"  Moth  answered,  anger  showing  in 
his  voice. 

"Don't  believe  him,"  I  answered.  "He  has  no  right  to 
pursue  me  as  he  does.  He's  not  my  guardian." 

"Who  is  your  guardian,  and  where  is  he?"  the  jailer  asked, 
as  if  that  would  settle  it. 

"Uncle  Job  Throckmorton,  and  he  lives  in  Appletop.  He 
left  me  at  Rock  Island  till  he  could  come  back,  and  yesterday 
this  man  planned  to  kidnap  me,  and  that's  why  I  ran  away,'* 
I  answered,  determined  to  tell  my  story. 

"I  know  Mr.  Throckmorton,  and  he  is  an  upright,  honest 
gentleman,  if  there  is  one  in  the  state,"  the  jailer  replied. 

"Then  don't  let  this  man  pursue  me  longer,"  I  answered, 
"for  he  has  no  right." 

"I  have  you  already,"  Moth  answered,  "and  so  there  is 
no  need  to  pursue  you  farther.  You  are  under  age  and  an 
estray,  for  Throckmorton 's  not  your  guardian,  and  can  be 
reclaimed  by  the  owner  wherever  found.  Is  not  that  so, 
jailer?" 

"Maybe;  but  I  think  you  ought  to  have  a  warrant  to  take 
him,"  he  added,  brightening  up  at  the  thought. 

"Nonsense!  It  is  not  necessary.  You  are  a  justice,  and 
it  is  your  business  to  hold  him  pending  investigation." 


In  the  Tiger's  Mouth  197 

"Why  should  I,  if  you  have  nothing  to  prove  your  right 
to  him?" 

"I  have,  and  you  know  it,"  Moth  answered,  confidently. 

"I  do  not,"  the  jailer  replied,  doggedly. 

"Well,  I  tell  you  so  now,  and  that  I  shall  hold  you  respon- 
sible as  an  officer  of  the  law  for  his  safety,"  Moth  answered, 
with  savage  determination. 

"Well,  I  say  I'll  not  turn  a  hand  to  help  you.  The  statutes 
of  Illinois  are  very  liberal  about  boys  being  at  large,  and  I  am 
not  going  to  interfere  with  this  one,"  the  jailer  answered. 

"You  will  not  dare  to  refuse  to  perform  the  duties  of  your 
office,"  Moth  answered,  desperately. 

"It  is  not  my  duty  to  detain  him,"  the  jailer  answered. 

"I'll  never  go  with  him,"  I  spoke  up,  encouraged  by  the 
jailer's  manner  and  speech.  "He  has  no  more  claim  on  me 
than  that  robber." 

"Yes,  I  have;  and  you  will  go  with  me,  just  as  the  robber 
did,"  Moth  replied.  "I  will  make  you  go." 

"You  can't;  and  if  you  were  not  an  old  man  I'd  wallop 
the  life  out  of  you  right  here  and  now,"  I  cried,  my  anger 
getting  the  better  of  me  again. 

To  this  Moth  made  no  response,  but  stood  still,  eying 
me  for  a  while  in  silence;  then  turning  to  the  jailer,  he  said: 

"To-morrow  I  will  bring  an  officer  to  take  this  lad,  my 
client's  ward  according  to  the  judge's  ruling,  and  you  dare 
not  let  him  go  meanwhile.  He  is  a  runaway,  and  I  call  on 
you  to  hold  him." 

"If  you  want  to  leave  him  here,  perhaps  you  can,  provided 
you  pay  his  board  and  lodging,  but  I  will  not  assume  any 
responsibility — not  for  a  minute,"  the  jailer  answered,  cowed 
by  Moth's  manner  and  confident  air. 

"Yes,  you  will,  and  you  will  secure  him  in  the  same  way 
you  have  the  highwayman,"  Moth  answered,  pointing  to  the 
robber. 

"I'll  see  you  damned  first.     He  is   not  a  criminal,    but 


198  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

a  child,  and  I  will  not  tie  him  up,  nor  will  you,"  the  jailer 
answered. 

"You  are  not  fit  to  fill  the  office  you  do;  but  I  must  be 
satisfied,  I  suppose.  Anyway,  he  can't  escape,"  Moth 
answered,  gazing  about  him  as  if  to  judge  of  the  strength  of 
the  room. 

"No,"  the  jailer  replied,  in  a  voice  that  plainly  said  he 
wished  I  could;  "and  now,  sir,  if  you  have  no  one  else  to 
lock  up  and  no  more  orders  to  give,  I  will  shut  up  shop  and 
go  home." 

Moth  returning  no  answer  to  this,  the  jailer  crossed  to 
where  the  'robber  sat  and  pinioned  his  arms,  after  which  he 
attached  the  rope  to  a  ring  in  the  wall,  but  not  so  closely  that 
the  prisoner  could  not  lie  down.  Then  taking  his  lantern, 
he  motioned  Moth  to  go  ahead,  following  him  to  the  door. 
There  turning  around,  he  pointed  to  a  bunk  in  the  corner, 
saying: 

"You  will  not  find  it  hard,  my  lad" ;  but  as  if  this  was  not 
enough,  he  turned  back,  and  taking  my  hand,  bade  me  not 
to  fear,  adding  that  he  would  see  that  my  uncle  got  word  of 
what  had  happened  on  the  succeeding  day. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 

GILBERT  AND  THE   HIGHWAYMAN  JOIN   FORCES 

When  they  were  gone  the  moon  served  in  some  measure  to- 
light  the  room,  and  taking  advantage  of  it,  I  examined  the 
window  and  door,  to  see  if  there  was  not  some  way  of  escape. 
In  vain,  however;  and  discouraged  I  sat  down  on  the  empty 
bench,  thinking  how  much  better  off  I  had  been  the  night 
before,  for  then  at  least  I  was  free.  While  thus  overcome  by  my 
sad  thoughts,  the  robber  spoke  up,  and  with  such  cheerfulness 
and  strength  of  voice  that  I  turned  to  him  in  astonishment. 

"So  the  little  spook  of  a  lawyer  has  trapped  you,  too,  has 
he?  But  why  so  sad  about  it?" 

At  this  I  only  stared,  but  after  a  while,  remembering  poor 
Fox  and  Mr.  Lincoln's  grand  way,  I  answered: 

"Yes,  I'm  trapped,  and  without  reason." 

"That  is  always  the  way.  Reasoa  plays  hide  and  seek 
with  us,  but  might  is  always  on  hand  and  wide  awake.  Moth 
puts  me  in  jail  because  I  sought  to  harm  him.  He  too  ought 
to  be  here,  though,  for  seeking  to  harm  you ;  but  he  is  free 
and  you  are  in  jail,  and  that  is  the  way  it  goes.  There  is 
always  some  bit  of  injustice,  I  have  noticed,  in  everything 
that  is  done,"  the  robber  went  on,  but  more  as  if  talking  to 
himself  than  to  me. 

"What  have  you  done  that  he's  after  you?"  I  asked, 
interested  in  him  because  of  his  cheerful  way  and  kind  speech. 

"Me!     I  tried  to  rob  him." 

"To  rob  him!"  I  exclaimed,  wondering  that  any  one 
should  try  to  rob  Moth. 

"Yes,  in  the  woods,  as  he  was  pursuing  you.     For  you  are 
the  lad,  I  expect,  that  went  by  as  I  lay  in  wait." 
199 


2oo  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"Yes,"  I  answered,  not  knowing  whether  I  was  or  no. 

"After  you  had  passed  he  came  along,  his  horse  all  afoam, 
and  I  followed  on.  When  he  stopped  at  the  place  where  you 
left  the  road,  I  called  to  him  to  throw  up  his  hands,  but  instead 
he  drew  a  pistol  and  fired  at  me  point-blank." 

"The  rascal!"  I  interrupted;  for  everything  that  Moth  did 
appeared  hateful  to  me. 

"Yes,  and  I,  not  to  be  outdone,  fired  back,  but  over  his 
head,  thinking  to  frighten  him ;  and  truly  enough,  for  he  turned 
and  fled.  My  horse  was  the  better  of  the  two,  but  he  the 
lighter,  so  for  a  long  time  there  was  no  advantage.  At  last, 
my  animal  having  the  best  wind,  I  overhauled  him,  and  releas- 
ing a  pistol  I  raised  it  and  fired,  intending,  as  before,  to 
frighten  him  into  giving  up  his  purse,  for  I  do  not  think 
I  could  kill  a  man  if  I  were  starving." 

"Well?" 

"Well,  just  as  I  fired,  my  horse,  left  to  himself,  stumbled, 
and  falling  on  his  face,  threw  me  over  his  head  into  the  road." 

"Then  what  happened?"  I  asked,  sympathizing  with  him 
in  his  misfortune. 

"The  fall  stunned  me,  and  before  I  could  so  much  as  stir 
the  little  scamp  had  disarmed  me,  and  when  I  looked  up, 
bruised  and  hurt,  he  held  a  pistol  within  an  inch  of  my  nose. " 

"That  was  too  bad,"  I  answered,  sorry  that  Moth  should 
have  been  the  victor. 

"When  I  had  recovered  a  little,  he  told  me  to  get  up,  and 
keeping  me  under  the  muzzle  of  a  pistol,  marched  me  forward. 
After  a  while,  coming  across  a  farmer,  they  bound  me  with 
ropes  and  straps,  and  in  that  shape  brought  me  here." 

"What  will  he  do  with  you  now?"  I  asked,  forgetting  my 
own  sorrows  in  his. 

"Take  me  to  the  county  jail.  They  would  have  done  it 
to-day,  only  the  jailer  and  he  were  off  in  search  of  you.  Oh, 
if  I  had  my  hands  and  legs  free,  I  would  show  him  a  trick 
worth  two  of  his!"  the  robber  exclaimed,  surveying  his  limbs 
with  a  sigh. 


Gilbert  and  the  Highwayman  Join  Forces       201 

"What  would  you  do?"  I  asked. 

"Leave  here,"  he  replied,  "within  an  hour;  and  we  would 
go  together,  and  so  double  his  rage." 

"To  do  this  all  you  want  is  your  hands  and  feet?"  I  asked, 
doubtingly. 

"That  is  all,  and  I  wouldn't  go  through  the  door  if  it  were 
open." 

I  could  set  him  free,  and  why  not,  I  asked  myself,  the 
sweat  starting  out  all  over  me  at  the  thought.  What  wrong 
would  there  be  in  it,  for  it  was  as  the  robber  said — Moth  had 
a  right  to  put  him  there,  but  no  right  to  treat  me  the  same 
way,  and  in  breaking  the  law  he  was  no  better  than  the  high- 
wayman. Reasoning  thus,  I  determined  to  do  what  the  rob- 
ber said,  and  so  answered : 

"I'll  cut  the  ropes,  if  that's  all  you  want." 

"I  shall  be  much  obliged  if  you  will,  but  I'll  not  ask  you 
to  do  it,"  he  answered. 

"Why  not?" 

"Oh,  perhaps  because  I  am  foolish." 

"How  will  you  get  out  if  you  are  free,  as  you  say?" 
I  asked,  not  seeing  any  way. 

"Oh,  easy  enough,"  he  answered.  "I  have  been  planning 
it  all  day  as  I  lay  here  on  my  back.  I  would  use  the  bench 
as  a  ram  to  displace  the  logs  overhead,  for  they  are  short  and 
not  half  fastened.  Once  in  the  loft,  it  would  be  easy  to 
remove  the  shingles,  and  being  on  the  roof,  the  ground  is  not 
ten  feet  away," 

"That  seems  easy,"  I  answered. 

"It  is;  for  the  jail  is  a  poor  affair,  and  only  intended  for 
small -offenders;  and  if  prisoners  have  not  escaped,  it  is  because 
they  were  bound,  as  I  am,  or  did  not  think  it  worth  while 
to  try. ' ' 

What  he  said  was  true;  and  now  resolved  in  my  mind,  and 
elated  at  the  prospect  of  getting  even  with  Moth,  I  went  to 
the  cupboard,  and  finding  a  knife,  as  I  had  thought,  took 
it  and  cut  the  cords  that  bound  the  robber's  arms  and  legs. 


2O2  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"There,  you  are  free!"  I  cried,  pleased  at  what  I  had 
done. 

"Thank  you,  my  lad;  and  now  we  will  not  lose  any  time, 
for  we  ought  to  be  far  away  by  sunrise,"  he  answered.  But 
when  he  got  to  his  feet  he  could  scarce  stand.  "It  is  noth- 
ing," he  went  on,  noticing  my  surprise,  "only  I  have  to  get 
the  blood  into  my  legs  and  arms  again  before  I  can  do  any- 
thing, for  they  are  as  stiff  as  ramrods."  This  did  not  take 
long,  and  in  a  few  seconds  he  was  busy  with  his  preparations 
for  our  escape.  "See!"  he  exclaimed,  straightening  up, 
"I  can  touch  the  ceiling  with  my  hands.  Now  help  me  with 
the  bench,  for  two  are  better  than  one.  There,  that  will  do. 
Now  send  the  end  of  it  into  that  log  overhead,  as  if  it  were 
Moth's  backbone.  Good!  we  moved  it  a  little.  Now  again. 
See!  it  is  giving  way."  This  was  true,  and  at  the  third  stroke 
it  flew  out  of  place,  leaving  an  opening  a  foot  wide.  "That 
is  fine,  and  one  more  will  be  enough.  Now!  right  into  the 
small  of  his  back  again,"  and  with  the  words  we  gave  the 
next  log  a  stroke,  lifting  it  clear  from  its  place,  as  we  had  the 
first. 

"That  hole  is  big  enough  to  drive  a  sleigh  through,"  he 
exclaimed;  and  placing  the  bench  on  the  floor,  stood  on  it, 
and  taking  hold  of  the  edge  of  the  opening,  swung  himself 
into  the  loft.  "Now,  my  lad,  give  me  your  hand,"  and  doing 
as  he  said,  I  found  myself  in  a  moment  seated  beside  him. 
"We  are  getting  on  finely,  and  the  rest  will  be  easy.  There! 
stay  where  you  are,  my  son,  and  in  a  minute  I  will  give  you 
a  glimpse  of  the  shining  stars."  Saying  which,  he  took  one  of 
the  logs  we  had  displaced,  and  with  it  drove  a  hole  through 
the  roof  as  big  as  a  barrel.  At  this,  and  greatly  to  our  sur- 
prise, the  watchdog  in  the  adjoining  yard,  aroused  by  the 
noise,  set  up  a  furious  barking,  running  up  to  the  jail  door, 
where  it  kept  up  its  angry  outcry. 

"Quick,  my  lad!  We  must  go  back.  It  is  the  jailer's 
dog,  and  the  old  man  will  be  sure  to  come  to  see  what  is  the 
matter";  and  without  wasting  time,  the  robber  lowered  him- 


Gilbert  and  the  Highwayman  Join  Forces       203 

self  through  the  opening  to  the  floor  below.  "Now  let  your- 
self down,  and  I'll  catch  you,"  he  called.  Doing  as  he  said, 
I  took  hold  of  the  cross-beam  and  let  my  body  swing  through 
the  opening,  and  he  taking  me  in  his  arms,  sat  me  down  safely 
on  the  floor. 

"Quick!  into  your  bunk,  and  I'll  do  the  same  as  soon  as 
I  put  this  bench  back."  And  not  a  moment  too  soon,  for 
scarce  had  he  thrown  himself  on  his  pallet  when  the  jailer 
opened  the  door,  and  pushing  his  lantern  into  the  room, 
peered  about. 

"Hello  there!  how  do  you  find  yourselves?  Comfortable- 
like?"  he  asked,  when  he  had  succeeded  in  making  us  out  by 
the  dim  light. 

"Yes,  we  are  all  right.  Why,  what  is  the  matter?  Is  it 
time  to  get  up,  or  has  Moth  sent  you  to  inquire  after  our 
health?"  my  companion  answered,  yawning,  but  with  some 
sarcasm  in  his  voice. 

"Never  mind  about  Moth.  I  heard  the  dog  barking,  and 
thought  you  might  be  wanting  something,  but  if  not,  I'll  go 
back  to  bed,"  he  answered,  as  if  excusing  himself. 

"No,  we  are  not  in  need  of  anything,  thank  you.  Good 
night,  and  pleasant  dreams,"  my  companion  called  out. 

"Good  night,"  the  jailer  answered;  and  closing  and  fas- 
tening the  door,  went  away. 

When  he  was  gone  we  lay  for  some  time  without  speaking, 
until  at  last  the  robber,  springing  up,  called  out: 

"Hello!  young  man,  are  you  asleep?" 

"No;  how  could  I  be?"  I  answered,  starting  to  my  feet. 

"I  thought  you  looked  a  little  tired  when  you  came  in 
to-night,  that  is  all.  Well,  now  for  another  try,"  and  with 
that  he  placed  the  bench  beneath  the  opening,  and  standing 
on  it  as  before,  climbed  into  the  loft,  lifting  me  after  him. 

"Now  for  the  roof;  and  as  the  hole  is  big  enough  to  push 
a  washtub  through,  there  is  no  occasion  for  making  any  more 
noise.  Let  me  help  you,"  and  with  the  words  he  lifted  me 
through  the  opening,  climbing  up  himself  a  moment  later. 


204  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

Descending  to  the  eaves  without  loss  of  time,  he  took  my 
hands  and  lowered  me  the  length  of  his  arm,  when,  letting  go 
his  hold,  I  dropped  to  the  ground.  Inquiring  if  I  was  all 
right,  he  did  not  wait,  but  following,  alighted  without  harm. 
At  this  moment,  when  we  thought  ourselves  free,  the  dog 
again  set  up  a  dreadful  barking,  running  out  into  the  moon- 
light within  a  few  feet  of  where  we  lay  prostrate  in  the  weeds. 

"We're  lost,"  I  whispered,  seeing  no  way  of  returning  to 
the  room  we  had  left;  but  placing  his  hand  over  my  mouth  the 
robber  bade  me  keep  my  peace.  A  moment  later  the  jailer 
came  to  the  door  of  his  hut,  but  after  looking  about  for 
a  while  and  yawning,  called  to  the  dog,  and  turning  about, 
reentered  his  house.  For  a  long  time  we  lay  motionless,  afraid 
to  move,  until  everything  being  quiet  again,  we  made  our  way 
on  our  hands  and  knees  to  the  forest,  some  way  off.  Here, 
regaining  our  feet,  we  hurried  on  for  a  mile  or  more  without 
speaking,  until  at  last  coming  to  an  opening  in  the  trees,  we 
stopped  in  the  bright  moonlight  and  looked  into  each  other's 
faces. 

"Fox."  I  exclaimed,  seeing  him  now  clearly  for  the  first 
time. 

"Fox!  how  do  you  know  that?"  he  asked,  surprised,  start- 
ing back. 

"I  know,  for  I  was  with  Mr.  Lincoln  when  you  sought  to 
rob  the  stage. ' ' 

"Good  Lord!  what  are  you  saying?"  he  exclaimed,  with 
a  scared  look. 

"Yes,  and  I  heard  you  promise  him  you'd  change  your 
ways,"  I  answered,  angrily,  thinking  of  Mr.  Lincoln  and  the 
sorrow  he  would  feel  at  Fox's  want  of  good  faith  a  second 
time. 

"Oh,  I  remember  you  well  enough  now;  and,  my  God, 
I  meant  what  I  said,  too!" 

"Then  why  didn't  you  carry  out  your  promise?"  I  asked. 

"It  was  my  damned  luck  not  to,  that  is  all.  For  when  you 
were  gone  from  the  tavern  where  I  stayed,  the  old  man 


Gilbert  and  the  Highwayman  Join  Forces       205 

I  robbed  of  the  watch  had  me  arrested ;  but  while  on  my  way 
to  jail  I  escaped,  and  as  good  fortune  would  have  it  this  time, 
I  ran  across  the  very  thief  who  got  me  into  trouble  at  first. 
Recognizing  him,  and  being  ready,  when  he  sought  to  rob  me 
I  overcame  him,  and  so  made  him  dismount,  and  taking  his 
pistols  and  horse,  rode  off.  That  is  how  it  happened  that 
I  did  not  await  Mr.  Lincoln's  return  and  that  I  am  on  the 
road  again." 

"What  have  vou  been  doing?"  I  asked,  pleased  at  what  he 
said. 

"Not  much  in  my  line,"  he  answered,  sadly,  waving  his 
hand;  "mostly  begging  a  night's  lodging  or  a  meal  here  and 
there,  till  I  ran  across  Moth." 

"You  will  never  reform,  I'm  afraid,"  I  answered,  sorrow- 
ing, he  was  so  pleasant  of  face  and  voice. 

"Perhaps  not;  but  I  will  make  no  more  promises,  anyway. 
And  now,  just  as  I  once  owed  my  freedom  to  Mr.  Lincoln,  so 
I  owe  it  to  you.  It  is  more  than  life  to  me,  too,  for  if  a  man 
is  once  condemned,  that  settles  him  for  all  time." 

"I  only  helped  myself  in  helping  you,  and  so  you  owe  me 
nothing,"  I  answered,  true  enough. 

"Yes,  I  do.  One  never  asks  a  neighbor  why  he  does 
a  good  act.  I  could  not  have  escaped  except  for  you,  and 
I  owe  you  a  debt  I  can  never  pay." 

"No,  for  I  couldn't  have  got  off  without  you,  and  so  we're 
quits.  It's  good  to  be  free  again,  though,"  I  exclaimed, 
drawing  in  a  long  breath  of  the  sweet  air. 

"Yes,"  he  answered,  brightening  up;  "and  on  such  a  night, 
too!  How  beautiful  everything  is — the  moon,  the  sleeping 
trees,- the  restful  shadows,  the  soft  stir  of  the  leaves!"  and  he 
sighed  as  a  better  man  might  have  done  in  his  place. 

"I  hope  we'll  neither  of  us  ever  be  in  such  a  fix  again," 
I  answered,  my  happiness  at  our  escape  dampened  by  com- 
passion for  my  companion  and  his  dangerous  way  of  life. 

"No  need  in  your  case,  surely;  but  for  me,"  he  went  on, 
as  if  reading  my  thoughts,  "who  can  tell?  My  sins  will  follow 


206  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

me  on  horseback,  let  me  do  what  I  may.  There  will  be  no 
dodging  them,  either.  It  is  the  first  misstep  that  guides  your 
footsteps  ever  afterward,  my  son ;  but  the  roads  seem  so  much 
alike  at  the  start  that  you  can  hardly  tell  one  from  the  other. 
Both  are  bordered  with  flowers,  and  the  sun  shines  as  warm 
on  one  as  the  other;  and  yet  the  difference  and  the  quick 
change  if  we  go  wrong!  Then  the  trees  lose  their  green  and 
the  flowers  fade,  and  the  sun  goes  out  as  if  it  were  night. 
Look  to  your  footsteps,  my  friend,  for  once  you  stray  off  the 
beaten  path,  the  lash  of  justice  will  scourge  you  ever  after- 
ward. Such  is  the  criminal,  and  such  am  I,  and  there  is  never 
but  one  ending.  Who  that  starts  wrong,  though,  ever  gives 
the  ending  or  its  quick  coming  a  thought?  This  is  my  sermon 
to  you,  my  son,  and  it  is  real  preaching,  for  that  was  the  call- 
ing I  meant  to  follow  for  man's  good  and  my  own  salvation 
when  I  started  out  in  life.  What  a  mess  I  have  made  of  it, 
though,  as  others  have  done  and  will  to  the  end.  Not  to 
repent,  either,  nor  strive  to,  for  on  this  road  there  is  no  turn- 
ing back.  The  silliness  of  it  all,  and  the  futility!  But  do 
not  regard  what  I  say,  lad.  The  lost  ever  thus  grieve  and  go 
on  preaching  and  reforming  and  falling  anew.  So*there  you 
are,  and  here  am  I ;  and  which  way  do  you  go  now?"  he  added, 
changing  in  a  whimsical  way,  but  as  if  pleased  with  his  sermon. 

"I'm  going  to  Appletop,"  I  answered,  sorrowing  over 
what  he  said,  knowing  he  was  making  himself  out  bad  when 
he  was  only  unfortunate  and  foolish;  "but  I  don't  know  where 
I  am  nor  which  way  to  go." 

"I  will  put  you  on  the  road,  and  it  is  but  a  step, "  he 
answered;  and  taking  my  hand'  we  plunged  into  the  forest 
again.  Walking  on  without  speaking  for  half  an  hour,  we 
came  at  last  to  a  road  that  stretched  away,  white  and  glisten- 
ing, in  the  bright  moonlight. 

"Here  is  your  way,  my  son,  and  a  plain  one,  too.  Go  to 
the  right  for  a  mile  or  thereabouts,  where  a  road  leads  to  the 
left.  Follow  it  and  it  will  take  you  zigzagging  through  the 
country  to  Appletop.  You  can't  miss  the  way,  and  nothing 


Gilbert  and  the  Highwayman  Join  Forces       207 

will  harm  you;  or  if  you  should  run  across  robbers,  and  maybe 
you  will,  say  nothing,  but  go  on,  for  they  will  not  harm  a  lad 
like  you." 

"Where  are  you  going?"  I  asked,  reluctant  to  leave  him. 

"Why,  what  does  that  matter?"  he  answered,  putting  me 
off;  but  thinking  better  of  it,  added:  "I  am  going  to  find  my 
horse,  the  one  I  took  from  my  friend  the  robber.  He  does 
not  know  any  one  but  me  now,  nor  I  any  one  but  him,  and 
I  am  not  going  to  leave  him  here." 

"Where  is  he?"  I  asked. 

"In  the  village  we  have  just  left;  but  the  night  is  like  day, 
and  I  shall  have  no  trouble  in  finding  him,  and  perhaps  Moth's, 
too,  who  knows!"  he  added,  his  eyes  lighting  up  as  a  boy's 
might  when  about  to  play  a  trick  on  a  playmate. 

"Oh,  don't  touch  Moth's  horse,"  I  answered,  filled  with 
fear,  so  clever  were  his  ways.  "I  wish  you'd  go  with  me,  and 
not  try  to  get  your  horse,  and  maybe  get  caught  again." 

"Never  fear!"  he  answered,  lightly.  "Good  by,  and  don't 
forget  me,  for  I  shall  always  be  your  friend,  though  not  one 
you  will  care  to  own." 

"I'm  sure  I  shall;  but  don't  take  Moth's  horse." 

"Well,  we  will  see.     Good  by." 

Clasping  his  outstretched  hand,  I  was  loath  to  let  it  go,  for 
he  did  not  seem  to  me  to  be  bad  at  all.  Surely,  I  thought, 
there  ought  to  be  some  way  to  save  such  a  man,  it  not  being 
his  nature  to  do  wrong,  but  a  habit  likely  to  grow  upon  him. 
Thus  do  the  sympathies  of  the  young  ever  go  out  to  the  wrong- 
doer before  the  world  has  taught  them  to  classify  men  and 
treat  all  alike  who  go  astray,  without  regard  to  their  nature 
or  surroundings;  and  thus  mine  went  out  to  Fox  that  night 
as  we  parted  in  the  white  road,  with  the  solemn  moon  looking 
down  on  our  leave-taking. 


CHAPTER    XXIX 

THE  TRAGEDY  OF  MURDERER'S  HOLLOW 

Going  the  way  Fox  pointed  out,  I  found  the  road  as  he  had 
said ;  but  so  overwrought  were  my  nerves  by  the  events  of  the 
night  that  if  by  chance  a  shadow  outlined  the  fanciful  figure 
of  a  man  across  my  path,  I  stood  still,  trembling  and  in  doubt, 
until  its  harmless  nature  was  disclosed.  While  thus  peering 
ahead  and  striving  to  make  out  the  objects  in  my  path,  a  rab- 
bit ran  into  the  road  and  stopped,  as  if  disputing  my  right  to 
pass.  This,  strangely  enough,  disturbed  me  not  a  little,  as  if 
somehow  I  were  discovered.  While  I  stood  still,  hesitating 
whether  to  go  on  or  turn  back,  so  little  control  had  I  over 
myself,  the  plaintive  notes  of  a  whip-poor-will  came  to  me  from 
out  the  deep  forest,  as  if  in  comfort  of  my  loneliness.  Clear 
and  sweet,  it  warmed  and  cheered  my  heart  like  the  greeting 
of  a  friend.  For  wh«  that  has  been  brought  up  in  the  country 
ever  heard  the  notes  of  this  songster  of  the  night  without 
such  feeling  or  remembrance  of  it  ever  afterward?  To  all 
such  who  traverse  the  woods,  or  who  are  in  trouble,  it  is  as  if 
some  good  spirit  were  awakening  the  echoes  of  the  place  to 
soothe  their  thoughts  and  calm  their  fears.  Coming  to  me 
now,  out  of  the  slumbering  trees,  I  was  enlivened  and  cheered 
so  that  I  went  on  as  if  in  the  company  of  friends.  Thus 
quickly  do  those  who  are  in  trouble  accept  the  semblance  of 
what  they  vrish  for  for  the  thing  itself. 

Going  on  as  directed,  I  came  at  last  to  the  summit  of 
a  bluff,  from  which  I  looked  down  into  a  valley  filled  with 
moonlight  and  sylvan  shadows.  The  road  descending  the 
elevation,  as  I  could  see,  there  turned  and  followed  the  edge 
of  the  hill  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  valley,  where  it  reascended 
208 


The  Tragedy  of  Murderer's  Hollow  209 

the  height  and  was  lost  to  view.  Looking  to  know  the  reason 
of  this  strange  detour,  I  saw  it  was  caused  by  a  shallow  river, 
which  following  along  the  edge  of  the  valley,  crowded  the 
road  from  its  direct  course. 

Reaching  the  foot  of  the  descent,  the  stream  had  scarce 
more  water  in  its  bed  than  the  Little  Sandy  at  its  best;  and 
wearied  by  my  walk,  I  determined  to  cross  the  valley  and  so 
shorten  the  distance  I  would  otherwise  have  to  go.  Looking 
to  determine  the  course  I  should  take,  the  plain  lay  spread 
before  me,  and  midway  in  its  breadth  a  grove  of  walnut  trees 
lifted  their  graceful  foliage  to  the  sky,  standing  out  black  and 
clear  against  the  pale  grasses  of  the  sleeping  valley.'  Cheered 
by  the  sight,  for  there  is  no  tree  more  attractive  to  the  eye,  its 
rich  fruit  bringing  it  nearer  to  us  in  sympathy  of  life,  I  went 
forward  in  high  spirits,  stopping  as  I  crossed  the  little  river 
to  drink  my  fill  and  bathe  my  face  in  its  refreshing  waters. 

Coming  presently  to  the  grove  of  trees,  I  plunged  beneath 
their  depths,  to  emerge  a  moment  after  in  a  cleared  space,  on 
the  edge  of  which  a  log  hut,  charred  by  fire,  stood  in  lonely 
seclusion.  About  it,  and  as  if  in  mockery,  rank  weeds  grew 
where  once  a  garden  had  been  planted.  Wondering  why  such 
a  spot  should  have  been  selected  for  a  home,  I  went  forward, 
and  turning  the  angle  of  the  ruin,  came  without  thought  upon 
a  towering  gibbet,  from  which  ropes,  frayed  with  the  wind, 
dangled  in  the  midnight  air.  Beneath  these,  and  as  if  to  make 
the  story  plainer,  rude  graves  lifted  their  rounded  forms  in 
the  bright  moonlight.  Recoiling  at  the  sight,  I  had  nearly 
fallen;  but  with  my  discovery,  and  as  if  the  spirits  of  the  dead 
were  returned  to  earth,  voices  reached  me,  and  seemingly 
from  the  shadow  of  the  gallows  and  its  dangling  ropes.  Ques- 
tioning if  I  heard  aright  and  hesitating  whether  to  go  forward 
or  turn  and  fly,  the  voices  came  a  second  time,  and  now  more 
plainly  than  before.  In  doubt  of  their  friendliness,  I  threw 
myself  down  where  I  stood,  and  in  that  way  was  hidden  by 
the  weeds  and  the  shadow  of  the  crumbling  ruin.  Thus  con- 
cealed, I  was  safe,  unless,  indeed,  the  course  of  the  speakers- 


2io  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

crossed  the  spot  where  I  lay  hidden;  but  coming  presently 
full  on  the  gibbet,  they  stopped,  one  of  them  crying  out  in 
-a  voice  of  terror: 

"In  the  name  of  all  the  spirits  of  hell,  what's  them?" 

"What's  what?"  the  other  answered,  softly,  as  if  seeing 
nothing  out  of  the  way. 

"Them  graves  an*  danglin'  ropes?" 

"Why,  what  about  them?" 

"Are  they  real,  or  is't  the  phantoms  comin'  on  agin?" 

At  this  I  recognized  Blott's  voice,  now  no  longer  whimsical, 
but  constrained  and  full  of  fear.  Greatly  relieved,  I  rose  to 
•call  his  name,  but  doing  so,  discovered  his  companion  to  be 
the  gambler  Burke,  who  had  robbed  Mr.  Singleton  and  after- 
ward sought  to  murder  Mr.  Davis.  Seeing  him,  I  dropped 
down  again,  trembling  and  full  of  fear,  for  what  could  Blott 
be  doing  here,  and  in  such  company!  Surely  nothing  good! 
And  with  the  thought  I  hid  myself  more  securely  in  the  shadow 
of  the  abandoned  hut. 

"What  is  the  matter,  Blott?"  the  other  replied,  as  if  sur- 
prised. "Has  liquor  got  the  better  of  you  again,  or  what  is  it 
that  frightens  you?" 

"Frightens  me!  I'm  not  frightened;  but  why  the  devil 
have  you  brought  me  to  this  spot,  of  all  others?" 

"Was  there  ever  spot  more  beautiful?  Why,  it  is  a  bower 
fit  for  lovers,"  Burke  replied,  softly. 

"Fit  for  the  devil  an'  his  bride,  mebbe,  but  not  for  honest 
men.  Why,  the  place's  damned,  Burke." 

"Damned,  Blott!  Why  damned?  There  is  not  a  spot  on 
earth  more  peaceful.  Doves  coo  in  the  trees  yonder,  and 
birds  nest  there;  but  I  see  your  old  trouble  is  coming  on 
again,"  Burke  replied,  more  softly  than  at  first,  if  that  were 
possible. 

"Curse  you,  Burke,  an'  your  soft  speech!  My  trouble  ain't 
•comin'  on,  but  this  place's  enough  to  give  a  man  the  jimjams. 
It's  haunted,  an'  I'd  rather  visit  the  devil  in  his  den  than  come 
here." 


The  Tragedy^of  Murderer's  Hollow  211 

"You  talk  wildly,  Blott.  It  is  safe,  and  what  more  does 
one  want?  There  is  the  gallows  rotting  away,  and  under  it 
five  good  men  as  ever  risked  their  lives  for  money;  but  harm- 
less, Blott,  harmless.  They  will  never  cast  a  shadow  more, 
and  the  traveler  may  go  his  way  for  all  the  harm  they  can  do 
him.  Then  why  cry  out,  Blott?"  Burke  queried,  in  his  pur- 
ring voice. 

"What  these  men  come  to  you  an'  I  '11  come  to,  an'  I  don't 
care  to  be  reminded  of  it.  So  let's  leave  the  spot." 

"What  silly  talk,  Blott!  what  silly  talk!  Here  no  one 
comes,  and  here  we  are  free  from  prying  eyes.  Fools 
think  the  hut  is  haunted,  and  that  is  why  I  have  chosen  it  for 
a  hiding-place.  There  is  no  spot  on  earth  so  safe,  Blott." 

"There's  other  places  secure  enough  for  me,  an*  I'd  rather 
stand  in  the  open  than  hide  here  and  be  safe,"  Blott  answered, 
in  anger. 

"Will  you  never  stop,  Blott,  will  you  never  stop?  I  shall 
lose  my  temper,  I  am  afraid,  and  it  is  always  bad  for  those 
about  me  when  I  do,"  Burke  answered,  his  voice,  if  possible, 
more  subdued  than  before.  "You  can't  put  off  the  day  you 
will  hang  by  shutting  your  eyes,  and  what  is  there  to  fear  from 
the  graves  of  dead  men  or  a  rotting  gibbet?  You  put  me 
out,  Blott." 

"I  don't  care  whether  I  put  you  out  or  not.  I'm  no  boy," 
Blott  answered,  impatiently. 

"Surely  not!  surely  not!  But  we  must  have  a  hiding- 
place,  and  what  one  so  safe  as  this,  which  every  man  shuns?" 

"I'm  not  afeerd,  but  I  don't  like  the  company,"  Blott 
answered,  gloomily. 

"These  men  will  never  betray  us.  Do  they  cry  out  that 
it  was  I  who  fired  the  shot  for  which  they  were  hung?  Not 
a  bit  of  it.  Give  me  dead  men  when  there  is  anything  to  hide. " 

"You're  the  devil's  own,  Burke." 

"Perhaps,  Blott,  perhaps;  but  what  has  the  devil  done  to 
you  or  me  that  we  should  be  afraid  of  him?" 

"Why've  we  come  here,  anyway,  I'd  like  to  know?"  Blott 


212  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

asked.  "Our  man'll  not  cross  this  cursed  valley,  an'  while 
we're  foolin'  away  our  time  he'll  pass,  an'  so  we'll  lose  him." 

"There  you  go  again,  Blott!  I  told  you  he  was  not  to  start 
till  one  o'clock?  So  we  have  time  and  to  spare,"  Burke 
answered,  in  his  low,  purring  way. 

"How  do  you  know  he'll  not  start  till  one?  Or  how  do 
you  know  he's  comin'  at  all,  for  that  matter?"  Blott  replied. 

"How  did  I  know  Hogge  was  coming  this  way  that  rainy 
night,  or  how  do  I  know  other  things  that  are  going  on  in  the 
world  that  interest  me?"  Burke  answered. 

"Well,  how  do  you?" 

"Because  I  have  a  man  on  the  outside  whose  interest  it  is 
to  tell  me.  You  don't  suppose  I  trust  everything  to  chance, 
do  you?"  Burke  answered. 

"You  devil!     Who's  the  man?" 

"Well,  I  like  that,  Blott,  I  like  that;  and  you  an  old  con- 
stable, too!  Why  don't  you  ask  me  to  give  myself  up;  to  put 
a  halter  around  my  neck?" 

"If  we're  to  be  pards,  Burke,  you  must  trust  me,  for  I'll 
know  who's  pullin'  the  strings  or  I  won't  go  on." 

"We  are  not  going  to  be  partners,  Blott;  or  only  in  this. 
Why  should  we?" 

"Then  why  have  you  brought  me  here  to  help  you?" 

"Because  the  man  is  said  to  be  ugly  to  handle,  and  I  might 
fail  alone." 

"Well,  what'm  I  to  git  out  of  it  if  we're  not  pards?"  Blott 
asked. 

"We  are  partners  in  this,  and  you  are  to  get  one-third  if 
you  do  as  I  tell  you,"  Burke  answered. 

"What'm  I  to  do?" 

"Nothing  of  any  account.  You  are  to  stand  beside  the 
road  and  fire  when  I  do,  and  if  one  shot  doesn't  kill  him,  you 
are  to  keep  on  firing  till  he  is  dead.  Is  that  hard,  Blott?  It 
is  just  play." 

"You  won't  kill  him,  though,  if  he  throws  up  his  hands 
an'  we  git  what  we  want?" 


The  Tragedy  of  Murderer's  Hollow  213 

"Yes;  he  is  to  die  whether  he  throws  up  his, hands  or  not. 
That  is  the  understanding,"  Burke  answered. 

"Whose  understandin'?" 

"My  understanding  with  my  partner,  and  in  this  he  is  to 
have  his  way;  and  why  not?"  Burke  answered,  in  his  soft  voice. 

"Great  God!  what  does  he  want  him  killed  for?" 

"I  don't  know;  but  what  does  it  matter?  That  is  always 
the  best  way,  for  it  leaves  one  enemy  the  less." 

"Yes,  and  I  hang  for't,  like  these  dead  men,  while  you  go 
free,  you  devil!  No,  I'll  have  nothin'  to  do  with  the  murder. 
I  didn't  come  here  to  kill  a  man  'cause  somebody  I  don't  know 
wants  it,"  Blott  answered,  in  a  determined  way. 

"Don't  talk  foolishly,  Blott;  don't!"  Burke  replied, 
quietly,  but  with  such  dreadful  menace  in  his  voice  that 
I  shuddered,  hearing  it. 

"No,  not  a  finger'll  I  raise  agin  the  man,  whoever  he  is." 
Blott  answered,  doggedly.  "Not  a  finger!" 

"You  will  think  better  of  it,  Blott;  but  come  into  the 
cabin,  though  it  is  a  poor  thing  since  the  boys  held  it  against 
the  Regulators,"  Burke  answered,  as  if  to  turn  the  subject  to 
pleasanter  things. 

"Were  you  one  of  'em?"  Blott  asked,  as  if  loath  to  go  on. 

"No;  or  how  should  I  be  here?  I  was  late,  you  see,  and 
when  I  stuck  my  head  out  of  the  bushes  there  the  cabin  was 
afire,  and  our  men  holding  up  their  hands  and  crying  for 
mercy." 

"What  happened  then?"  Blott  asked. 

"What  would  be  likely  to  happen?  The  posse  tied  them 
hand  and  foot  and  stood  them  in  a  row,  and  before  you  could 
count-a  hundred,  had  picked  a  judge  and  jury.  Others  went 
and  cut  uprights  and  a  crossbeam  for  the  gallows,  and  when 
the  trial  was  over  the  thing  was  ready  as  you  see  it  now. 
After  they  had  convicted  the  prisoners,  every  one  had  his  say, 
but  not  one  peached.  Then  they  strung  them  up;  and  when 
all  were  dead,  they  dug  holes,  one  under  each  man,  and  so 
dropped  the  five  into  their  graves  and  covered  them  up,  and 


214  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

there  they  rot.  But  come,  this  is  idle  talk,  and  we  ought  to 
be  at  work";  and  partly  following  and  partly  pushing  Blott, 
the  two  disappeared  within  the  cabin. 

When  they  were  gone  I  remained  where  I  was,  not  knowing 
whether  to  fly  or  lie  still ;  but  while  thus  deliberating,  a  ray 
of  light  fell  across  my  face,  and  hearing  voices,  I  partly  arose 
and  peered  through  a  crevice  into  the  building.  A  lantern 
stood  on  the  rude  bench  that  ran  across  the  room,  and  beside 
it  Burke  was  busy  with  something  he  held  in  his  hand,  while 
Blott  sat  a  little  way  off,  seemingly  taking  no  interest  in  what 
the  other  was  doing.  After  a  while,  Burke  bringing  the  object 
he  held  near  the  lantern,  I  saw  it  was  a  pistol,  its  black  barrel 
glistening  in  the  uncertain  light  like  the  body  of  a  serpent. 

"There,  that  will  do,  that  will  do.  A  beauty,  too!  and 
now  for  the  others,"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  fell  to  work  on 
a  second  weapon,  cleaning  and  polishing  it  as  he  had  the  first 
Afterward  taking  from  his  belt  a  third  and  a  fourth,  he  cleaned 
and  loaded  them  as  he  had  the  others.  "There!  I  think  I  am 
ready  for  the  Appletop  gentleman ;  but  how  are  your  pistols, 
Blott?  In  good  shape,  I  hope?"  he  purred,  looking  up  as  if 
for  the  first  time. 

"I  don't  know,  an'  I  don't  care,  for  I'll  have  nothin'  to  do 
with  the  murder." 

"Don't  speak  so  roughly,  Blott;  don't,  you  shock  me. 
But  what  are  you  going  to  do,  then?"  Burke  continued,  keep- 
ing his  eyes  on  his  companion,  though  the  latter  did  not  look 
in  his  direction  any  more  than  as  if  he  had  not  been  present. 

"What'm  I  goin'  to  do?  I'm  goin'  to  leave  this  cursed 
place,"  Blott  answered,  standing  up. 

"Is  that  fair,  Blott?  Is  it  fair,  after  learning  my  plans? 
You  would  be  a  witness  against  me,  without  being  guilty,  you 
know,"  Burke  answered,  softly,  taking  a  pistol  in  each  hand. 
At  this  I  thought  to  cry  out,  so  dreadful  did  Burke's  move- 
ment appear  and  so  unconscious  was  Blott  of  any  danger;  but 
my  tongue  clove  to  the  roof  of  my  mouth  and  my  throat  was 
like  the  dust  of  the  road.  Paying  no  attention  to  the  move- 


The  Tragedy  of  Murderer's  Hollow  215 

ments  or  voice  of  the  other,  Blott  answered,  angrily,  and  as  if 
secure  in  his  own  house: 

"You  can  go  to  the  devil,  Burke,  if  you  like;  I'll  not  betray 
you,  but  you'll  never  lack  for  witnesses  to  hang  you." 

"You  don't  mean  that,  Blott!  You  don't,  surely!  Think 
again.  There  will  be  no  danger,  and  a  lot  of  money  to  share. 
A  lot,  I  say." 

"You  can't  tempt  me.  I  don't  care  about  the  risk,  but 
I  sha'n't  be  a  party  to  no  cold-blooded  murder.  I  didn't  come 
here  to  engage  in  any  such  fool  business";  and  he  turned  on 
Burke  as  if  defying  him. 

"If  you  are  not  going  to  do  as  I  wish,  I  will  not  help  you 
longer,  nor  give  you  liquor.  I  can't  afford  to  keep  a  dead  one 
in  food  and  whisky,"  Burke  went  on  in  a  whining  voice,  as  if 
loath  to  act. 

"Shut  off  the  whisky,  and  be  damned  to  you,  if  you  wish! 
I  may  want  a  drink  bad  enough  to-morrer  to  kill  a  man,  an' 
I  shouldn't  wonder  if  I  did;  but  I'm  not  feelin'  that  way 
to-night,"  Blott  answered,  sullenly. 

"Then  take  that,  you  booby,  you  driveling  idiot!"  and 
Burke  leveled  a  pistol  full  at  Blott's  breast  and  fired.  Too 
late  the  latter  sought  to  spring  upon  his  enemy,  but  with  the 
movement  he  threw  up  his  hands,  and  without  cry  or  sound  of 
any  kind  sank  down  upon  the  floor. 

Burke,  who  had  sprung  to  his  feet,  stopped  short  when  he 
saw  Blott  waver  and  fall.  And  thus  he  stood  watching  him, 
with  his  face  half-revealed.  When  some  time  had  passed  and 
Blott  did  not  stir,  Burke  went  to  him,  and  lifting  his  hand, 
let  it  fall  to  the  floor. 

"Dead,  and  so  quick,  too,  the  ass!  But  he  would  have  it, 
and  I  could  do  nothing  less.  Did  he  suppose  I  would  let  him 
go  knowing  what  he  did!  Well,  well,  you  need  not  fear 
spooks  longer,  Blott,  and  I  hope  they  will  find  you  better 
company  than  I  have";  saying  which,  he  stood  contemplating 
the  fallen  man  as  if  reflecting  on  his  fate.  At  last,  gathering 
himself  together,  he  went  on:  "Lie  there,  you  donkey!  till 


216  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

I  come  back,  when  a  hole  will  put  you  out  of  sight.  Better 
work  alone  than  with  such  a  baby.  Yes,  yes,  much  better!" 
And  his  voice,  which  a  moment  before  had  been  like  the  cry 
of  a  wild  beast,  was  now  soft  and  purring,  as  if  with  the 
occasion  all  feeling  of  anger  had  vanished  from  his  heart 
forever. 

NOTE.— At  the  time  of  which  Gilbert  Holmes  speaks,  the  inhabitants 
of  the  Mississippi  Valley  were  greatly  harassed  by  outlaws;  but  these, 
differing  from  the  thugs  of  the  East,  were  often  men  of  education  and 
considerable  culture,  like  Burke.  Many  of  them  were  the  sons  of  mer- 
chants and  clergymen  and  people  of  character,  who  thought  to  com- 
mence in  the  West  a  better  life,  or  continue  their  downward  course  with 
greater  license.  These  social  outcasts  were,  in  the  end,  driven  from  the 
country,  or  exterminated  by  bands  of  Regulators  organized  by  the  com- 
munities for  that  purpose.  For  many  years,  however,  men  were  not 
safe  abroad,  unless  in  companies  or  heavily  armed,  if  thought  to  have 
money.  Horse-stealing  was  a  common  crime,  and  more  surely  punished 
with  death  than  murder,  as  is  the  case  in  ail  new  countries.  Notwith- 
standing this,  and  contrary  to  what  is  generally  thought,  the  community 
was,  as  a  whole,  made  up  of  the  highest  type  of  men  and  women;  men 
and  women  who  spoke  pure  English  and  in  the  main  were  refined  and 
well  educated.  Coming  to  the  new  country,  they  gave  up  every  comfort 
to  better  their  fortunes,  enduring  hardship  with  cheerfulness,  in  the 
prospect  held  out  of  wealth  and  independence  for  their  children,  if  not 
for  themselves.— THE  AUTHOR. 


CHAPTER   XXX 

THE   RIDE   FOR   LIFE 

When  Burke  had  assured  himself  a  second  time  that  Blott 
was  dead,  he  reloaded  his  pistol  and  hurriedly  left  the  cabin. 
Waiting  till  he  was  gone,  I  crept  to  the  corner  of  the  building 
and  watched  him  as  he  crossed  the  open  space  and  disappeared 
in  the  shadows  of  the  trees.  Overcome,  I  had  now  but  one 
desire,  and  that  to  leave  this  place  of  death;  and  turning, 
I  fled  across  the  moonlit  space,  past  the  graves  and  dangling 
ropes,  to  the  woods  beyond.  Directing  my  course  in  the 
direction  I  had  been  following,  I  made  a  wide  detour  that 
I  might  strike  the  highway  at  the  top  of  the  hill  instead  of  the 
bottom,  as  I  had  thought.  Reaching  the  road  at  last,  worn 
out  with  fatigue,  I  threw  myself  down,  the  better  to  regain 
my  lost  strength.  As  I  lay  outstretched,  I  listened  to  catch, 
if  I  might,  the  report  of  Burke's  pistol.  In  vain,  however;  but 
perhaps  the  distance  was  too  great;  or  what  if  the  traveler 
had  not  yet  reached  the  valley!  At  the  thought  I  sprang  to 
my  feet  and  ran  on,  hoping  I  might  yet  be  in  time  to  warn  him 
of.  his  danger.  Stopping  at  intervals  to  listen,  no  sound 
reached  my  ears  save  the  moan  of  the  wind  and  the  far-off  cry 
of  some  night-bird  in  quest  of  its  prey.  At  last,  discouraged 
and  worn  out,  I  threw  myself  down  beside  the  road,  careless 
of  all  else  if  I  might  only  rest  and  sleep. 

As  my  face  touched  the  ground,  and  ere  I  could  close  my 
eyes,  there  struck  upon  my  ear  the  far-off  rhythmical  beat  of 
a  horse's  hoofs  at  full  gallop.  Angry  at  being  disturbed, 
I  arose,  but  standing  upright  I  could  hear  it  no  more.  Re- 
lieved, I  lay  down  again ;  but  no  sooner  had  my  head  touched 
the  cool  earth  than  the  sound  came  to  me  once  more,  and  now 
217 


218  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  HoJmes 

nearer  and  deeper  than  before.  There  could  be  no  mistake 
this  time,  and  rising  to  my  feet,  the  steady  pulse-beat  of  the 
galloping  horse  rose  full  and  clear  on  the  still  air,  saying  as  in 
words,  "Coming,  coming,  coming!"  Or  some  obstruction 
intervening,  it  would  die  away,  calling  back,  as  in  sad  adieu, 
"Going,  going,  going!"  Then  the  obstruction  cleared,  or  the 
ground  hardening,  it  came  again,  clear  and  welcome  as  before, 
"Coming,  coming,  coming!"  Thus  I  stood  trembling  and 
impatient,  counting  the  hoof-beats  as  the  horse  came  swiftly 
on.  Surely  this  must  be  the  man  I  sought;  and  so  believing, 
I  braced  myself  and  waited.  As  the  horse  neared  the  spot 
where  I  stood  half-hidden  by  the  overhanging  trees,  it  shied 
at  sight  of  me,  but  the  rider,  keeping  control  with  one  hand, 
drew  a  pistol  with  the  other,  and  would  have  fired  had  I  not 
cried  out: 

"Stop!  stop!  stop!" 

Bewildered,  he  hesitated,  but  distrustfully,  calling  in  fierce 
anger: 

"Throw  up  your  hands,  and  come  into  the  light,  or  I  will 
kill  you!" 

Hastening  to  do  as  he  said,  and  the  moon  striking  my  face 
as  I  stepped  into  the  road,  he  lowered  his  pistol,  crying  out: 

"My  God,  Gilbert!" 

Recognizing  Uncle  Job's  voice,  I  answered,  but  hardly 
above  a  whisper,  so  overcome  was  I  at  seeing  him-. 

"Great  heavens!  what  are  you  doing  here?"  he  went  on, 
springing  from  his  horse;  but  I  knew  no  more  till  I  found 
myself  lying  in  the  road  and  he  bending  over  me. 

"There,  you  are  coming  round;  but,  my  God!  how  pale 
and  wan  you  look,  and  how  torn  your  face!  Have  you  been 
ill,  or  what  is  the  matter?"  he  asked,  his  voice  choked  and 
trembling. 

"No,  I'm  all  right,"  I  answered;  and  indeed  the  sight  of 
him  filled  me  with  such  happiness  that  my  weariness  left  me 
ere  I  had  finished  speaking. 

"There!  do  not  get  up.     Lie  where  you  are,  and  when  you 


The  Ride  for  Life  219 

are  strong  enough  you  can  tell  me  how  it  happens  that  you 
are  here  and  alone,  and  at  this  time  of  night,"  he  replied,  his 
face  clouded  with  anxiety. 

"I  ran  away  to  escape  Moth;  but  I've  something  else  to 
tell  you,"  I  answered,  remembering  the  tragedy  at  the  cabin 
and  Burke  waiting  beside  the  road,  "and  it's  about  you," 
I  went  on,  overcome  by  the  recollection. 

"There  is  no  hurry  to  tell  it,"  he  answered,  tenderly. 
"We  can  stay  here  till  morning  for  all  the  difference  it  will 
make;  so  calm  yourself." 

"There  is  need,  though,  for  Burke  is  waiting  by  the  road 
to  kill  you,"  I  answered,  getting  to  my  feet  and  striving  to 
overcome  my  weakness. 

"What  is  that  you  say?  Some  one  waiting  to  kill  me?"  he 
asked,  peering  into  my  face,  as  if  he  thought  I  had  lost  my 
senses. 

"Yes;  I  heard  them  planning  it  in  the  cabin  in  Murderer's 
Hollow,"  I  answered,  simply. 

"Good  heavens!  what  could  have  taken  you  there,  Gilbert?" 
he  asked,  as  if  still  doubting  what  I  said. 

"I  was  crossing  the  valley,  and  reached  the  cabin  as  the 
robbers  came  up,"  I  answered,  striving  to  make  myself  clear, 
"and  seeing  them  first,  hid  in  the  shadow  of  the  hut." 

"You  said  one  before,  and  now  you  say  two,"  he  answered, 
as  if  the  discrepancy  confirmed  his  thought  that  I  was  mad. 

"There  were  two — Burke  and  Blott. "  .- 

"Burke  and  Blott?" 

"Yes;  our  Blott,  and  Burke,  who  robbed  Mr.  Singleton; 
but  when  Blott  refused  to  aid,  Burke  killed  him." 

"What  is  all  this  you  are  telling  me,  my  poor  boy?"  he 
replied,  his  voice  shaking.  "Surely  you  are  dreaming." 

"No,  I  'm  not;  and  afterward  Burke  hurried  away  to  wait 
your  coming." 

"Burke!  What  on  earth  can  he  be  doing  here,  unless, 
indeed,  he  has  been  driven  from  his  home,  and  so  turned  out- 
law. Did  he  know  it  was  me?" 


22O  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"I  think  not,  for  I  never  thought  of  you  at  all." 

"How  did  he  know  I  was  coming  this  way  to-night?" 

"Some  one  in  Appletop  sent  him  word,  he  said." 

"He  only  wanted  to  rob  me.  He  could  not  have  wished 
to  kill  me,  unless  in  revenge!"  Uncle  Job  answered,  inquir- 
ingly. 

"Yes,  both  rob  and  kill  you,  and  as  it  had  been  agreed 
between  him  and  the  person  in  Appletop,  he  said." 

Upon  this  I  told  Uncle  Job  all  that  I  had  heard  and  seen  at 
the  cabin.  When  I  had  finished,  he  stood  for  a  long  time 
silent,  asking  himself  over  and  over  again  who  it  was  that 
could  have  informed  Burke  of  his  coming,  or  that  desired  his 
death,  and  wherefore,  if,  indeed,  it  was  not  a  ruse  of  Burke's 
to  deceive  Blott. 

"I  can't  make  it  out,"  he  said  at  last.  "The  river  is  too 
low  for  boats  to  pass  the  rapids,  so  I  had  to  come  this  way, 
and  started  late  on  purpose  to  avoid  highwaymen,  for  I  have 
a  lot  of  money  with  me." 

"Burke  knew  all  about  it,"  I  answered;  "even  the  hour 
you  were  to  start. ' ' 

"Then  it  is  lucky  I  was  delayed;  but  I  have  still  time  to 
pay  my  respects  to  him,  the  villain!"  he  answered,  throwing 
the  rein  over  his  horse's  neck. 

"Time  to  do  what?"  I  asked. 

"To  go  oil  to  the  cabin  and  take  or  kill  Burke,  the  cold- 
blooded assassin!"  he  answered,  grimly. 

"No,  no!     You'll  not  do  that,  Uncle  Job,  surely!"  I  cried. 

"Yes,  I  must  have  Burke,  or  know  who  it  is  that  sent  him 
word.  My  life  may  depend  upon  it  hereafter." 

"He'll  kill  you!  He's  a  devil,  but  soft  and  purring  like 
a  cat,"  I  answered,  remembering  Burke's  way. 

"I  will  not  give  him  a  chance.  Besides,  Blott  may  not  be 
dead." 

"I  know  he  is,  for  his  hand  dropped  like  lead,"  I  answered. 

"Very  likely,  and  deserves  it  for  the  company  he  was  in; 
but  pistols  don't  always  kill.  You  stay  here,"  he  went  on, 


The  Ride  for  Life  221 

preparing  to  mount;    "there  is  no  danger,  and  I  will  be  back 
in  an  hour." 

.  "No.  If  you're  going,  I'm  going,  too,"  I  answered,  deter- 
mined not  to  be  alone  again  in  this  forest,  so  full  of  horrors. 

"Well,  do  as  you  like.  There  will  be  no  danger  if  we  can 
reach  the  place  without  being  seen." 

"That'll  be  easy  enough,  for  the  trees  will  hide  us;  but 
I  wish  you'd  go  back  to  Appletop,"  I  answered,  full  of  fore- 
bodings. 

"To  be  shot  from  a  bush  to-morrow?  No!  I  must  find 
out  who  it  is  that  seeks  my  life,  if,  indeed,  there  is  any  one  save 
Burke  himself." 

"Burke'll  never  tell,  I  know  he'll  not,"  I  answered,  still 
hoping  to  dissuade  him. 

"Well,  I  will  get  him,  anyway,  and  that  will  make  one 
enemy  the  less  to  guard  against,"  he  replied,  springing  into 
the  saddle. 

Lifting  me  up  behind  him,  he  put  spurs  to  his  horse,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  we  reached  the  top  of  the  bluff.  Turning 
into  the  forest,  we  made  our  way  to  the  grove  back  of  the 
cabin,  and  here,  fastening  the  horse,  we  crept  forward  on  our 
hands  and  knees  to  the  rear  of  the  hut.  Peering  within,  and 
everything  being  as  I  had  left  it,  we  made  our  way  into  the 
dark  inclosure.  Closing  the  door,  Uncle  Job  went  to  Blott, 
bidding  me  keep  a  lookout  for  Burke;  and  this  I  could  do 
through  the  opening  in  the  wall  without  in  any  way  betraying 
our  presence.  Trying  first  his  pulse  and  then  his  heart,  Uncle 
Job  exclaimed  at  last: 

'"There  is  life  in  him,  but  whether  he  can  be  brought 
around  or  not  is  another  thing."  Saying  which,  he  got  down 
on  his  knees  and  began  to  beat  the  man's  arms  and  chest, 
prying  his  mouth  open  at  last,  and  breathing  into  it,  as  if 
he  would  force  life  into  the  body  whether  or  no. 

While  thus  engaged,  Burke  emerged  from  the  shadows  of 
the  trees,  and  upon  my  crying  out,  Uncle  Job  got  up,  and  tak- 
ing a  pistol  in  each  hand,  stationed  himself  in  the  middle  of 


222  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

the  room.  Reaching  the  door,  Burke  pushed  it  open,  and 
doing  so,  stood  outlined  in  the  bright  moonlight.  At  this, 
and  before  he  could  enter  or  suspect  our  presence,  Uncle  Job 
cried  out  in  a  terrible  voice: 

"Throw  up  your  hands,  Burke,  or  you  are  a  dead  man!" 

Surprised,  the  robber  stepped  back,  wavering,  as  if  uncer- 
tain whether  to  fly  or  grasp  his  weapons;  but  Uncle  Job 
advancing,  thrust  his  pistols  forward,  calling  out  again: 

"Quick!  before  I  kill  you!"  And  upon  this,  Burke,  with 
a  dreadful  oath,  did  as  he  was  ordered. 

"Thanks,  Colonel,  thanks!"  Uncle  Job  went  on,  more 
quietly.  "I  had  not  expected  to  meet  you  so  soon  again;  but 
back  up  a  little,  will  you?  There,  that  will  do.  Now,  Gil- 
bert, come  and  relieve  him  of  his  pistols.  There  is  no 
danger,  lad,  for  I  will  kill  him  if  he  stirs  so  much  as  a  hair," 
he  added,  pressing  the  weapons  close  against  Burke's  breast. 
Doing  as  I  was  told,  I  went  to  the  robber,  and  taking  his 
pistols,  hid  them  in  the  cabin.  "We  are  getting  on  finely, 
Gilbert.  Now  see  if  he  has  a  knife.  Don't  be  afraid." 
Obeying,  I  took  from  Burke  a  murderous  weapon,  which 
I  threw,  with  all  my  might  into  the  surrounding  weeds.  All 
this  while  the  robber  stood  still,  his  eyes  darting  this  way  and 
that,  as  a  wild  beast's  might  when  suddenly  brought  to  bay. 

"Now,  Colonel,  I  must  trouble  you  to  remove  your  coat. 
There,  thank  you!  Gilbert,  take  off  his  belt  and  strap  his 
arms  to  his  body,"  Uncle  Job  went  on,  pleasantly,  keeping 
his  pistols  all  the  while  leveled  upon  Burke.  "Tighter,  lad, 
tighter!  Don't  leave  any  slack.  We  are  getting  on,  Colonel, 
we  are  getting  on;  so  don't  be  impatient.  Now  take  my 
belt,  Gilbert,  and  bind  his  legs  together  in  the  same  way. 
Harder,  boy!  you  don't  half  pull!  There,  that  is  better. 
I  am  sorry  to  do  this,  Colonel,  but  assassins  and  those  who 
murder  without  knowing  why  must  be  carefully  looked  to," 
Uncle  Job  ran  on  in  a  chatty  way,  as  if  costuming  a  friend 
and  being  desirous  of  doing  it  well,  even  at  some  personal 
inconvenience.  "Now,  Colonel,  I  must  ask  you  to  lie  down. 


The  Ride  for  Life  223 

There,  so,  so!  That  will  do;  and  let  me  advise  you  to  keep 
still  if  you  value  your  life,  for  I  am  in  a  mood  to  kill  you," 
Uncle  Job  added,  soberly  enough,  examining  Burke's  fasten- 
ings as  he  spoke,  tightening  them  and  turning  the  belts  about 
so  that  the  buckles  could  not  be  reached. 

To  all  that  was  said  and  done,  Burke  made  no  response, 
seeming  to  feel  that  it  was  useless  to  make  remonstrance. 
Indeed,  his  discovery  and  the  dead  man  lying  in  full  view  told 
him  that  to  beg  for  'mercy  was  a  waste  of  breath.  When  at 
last  Uncle  Job  had  things  fixed  to  his  liking,  he  stopped,  and 
looking  at  Burke,  said: 

"Now  that  we  have  some  leisure,  Burke,  I  should  like  to 
know  how  it  happens  you  are  here,  and  an  outlaw,  for  when 
I  saw  you  last  you  were  about  to  return  to  Mississippi." 

"Yes,  and  I  should,  except  for  your  robbing  me  of  my  win- 
nings, curse  you!"  he  answered,  but  mildly,  and  as  if  speak- 
ing to  a  friend. 

"What  difference  did  that  make?"  Uncle  Job  asked. 

"All  the  difference  in  the  world,  for  I  could  then  have 
recouped  myself,  but  being  under  a  ban  I  dared  not  go  back 
empty-handed." 

"Then  it  was  for  both  gain  and  revenge  that  you  were 
going  to  kill  me  to-night?" 

"Were  you  the  man  I  was  waiting  for?"  Burke  asked,  in 
surprise. 

"Yes,  and  you  knew  it." 

"No;  for  if  I  had  I  would  have  gone  to  Appletop  to  make 
sure  of  killing  you,"  Burke  answered. 

"I  should  have  thought  Blott's  murder  enough  for  one 
night,"  Uncle  Job  answered,  impatiently. 

"That  was  nothing.  He  brought  it  on  himself,  the  fool! 
And  I  should  have  slept  soundly  for  a  week  could  I  have  killed 
you,  too.  That  is  the  way  such  things  affect  me,"  Burke 
replied,  looking  Uncle  Job  coldly  in  the  face. 

"Have  you  no  conscience?"  the  latter  asked,  out  of  all 
patience. 


224  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"Don't  talk  cant!  Conscience  is  a  matter  of  digestion. 
If  that  is  good,  I  sleep  soundly;  if  not,  a  cricket  will  make  me 
start  with  fear." 

"Have  you  no  mercy,  either,  Burke?"  Uncle  Job  asked. 

"No,  not  if  it  would  rob  me  of  a  crumb  or  a  drop  of  water 
I  craved.  It  is  every  one  for  himself  as  I  look  at  it." 

"You  devil!     You  don't  deserve  to  live." 

"Yes,  as  much  as  you.  We  are  both  animals,  only  differ- 
ently built.  You  can  live  on  vegetables,  but  I  must  have  meat 
and  plenty  of  it,  and  not  cooked  too  well,  either." 

"Well,  all  this  leads  to  nothing;  but  I  should  like  to  ask 
you  a  question,  Burke,  and  if  you  are  wise,  you  will  answer 
it  frankly,"  Uncle  Job  responded. 

"You  can  ask  as  many  as  you  like,  and  I  will  do  as  I  think 
best  about  answering  them,  Mr.  Throckmorton,"  the  other  re- 
plied, with  a  soft  purr  in  his  voice,  as  if  speaking  to  a  comrade. 

"What  I  want  to  know  is,  who  told  you  I  was  to  pass  this 
way  to-night,  if,  indeed,  any  one  told  you?" 

"Well,  really,  I  should  like  to  oblige  you,  but  you  will  have 
to  excuse  me,"  Burke  answered,  looking  at  Uncle  Job  as  if 
it  pained  him  beyond  expression  to  refuse  his  request. 

"Then  you  refuse  to  tell?"  Uncle  Job  replied,  disappoint- 
ment clearly  showing  in  his  voice. 

"Thank  you,  yes;  I  can't,  really.  And  now  may  I  ask  you 
a  question  in  return?"  Burke  answered. 

"Yes,  but  I  will  not  promise  to  answer  you,"  Uncle  Job 
replied,  shortly. 

"Of  course  not,  Mr.  Throckmorton,  of  course  not.  It  is. 
nothing  of  importance,  anyway." 

"Well,  what  is  it,  Burke?" 

"It  is  this,  if  you  don't  mind.  Who  told  you  I  was  wait- 
ing by  the  roadside  for  you?" 

"I  don't  know  that  there  is  any  harm  in  telling  you,  but 
I  guess  I  had  better  not,"  Uncle  Job  replied,  glancing  at  me. 
"Perhaps  it  was  the  same  person  who  told  you  I  was  coming 
this  way.  Who  knows?  I  will  make  a  bargain  with  you, 


The  Ride  for  Life  225 

though,  Burke,  if  you  have  a  mind.  Answer  my  question  and 
I  will  answer  yours." 

To  this  Burke  made  no  reply,  shutting  his  mouth  as  if  it 
concealed  a  secret  of  the  greatest  value  to  him. 

"Very  well;  we  will  say  no  more  about  it,"  Uncle  Job 
continued.  "Now,  Gilbert,  if  you  will  look  after  him,  I  will 
see  if  I  can  do  anything  for  Blott. "  And  going  into  the 
cabin,  he  got  down  on  his  knees  and  commenced  to  work  over 
the  fallen  man  as  before.  "His  heart  flutters  and  there  is  life 
in  him,  if  I  only  knew  how  to  get  at  it,  but  that  is  just  where 
I  fail,"  he  exclaimed  at  last,  rising  to  his  feet.  "We  must 
have  a  doctor,  Gilbert,  and  quickly,  if  he  is  to  be  saved." 

"A  doctor!"  I  answered. 

"Yes;  and  to  get  him  we  must  go  to  Appletop." 

"Blott  will  surely  die  before  he  could  reach  here,"" 
I  answered. 

"Perhaps  not,  if  you  were  to  go  without  loss  of  time," 
Uncle  Job  replied,  looking  at  me  inquiringly. 

"I'll  not  go,"  I  answered,  shortly,  determined  not  to  leave 
him  alone  with  Burke. 

"Why  not?  No  harm  can  come  to  you,  and  I  am  as  safe 
here  as  in  bed.  Besides,  it  may  save  Blott's  life.  You  are 
not  strong  enough,  though,  to  stand  the  ride,  I  am  afraid," 
he  added,  scanning  my  face. 

"I'm  all  right,  but  I  wouldn't  know  where  to  go," 
I  answered. 

"Oh,  that  will  be  easy  enough.  The  road  we  came  leads 
there,  and  you  can't  miss  it.  In  the  middle  of  the  town  as 
you  go  forward  there  is  a  park  where  all  the  roads  meet,  and 
at  the  end  of  the  one  you  are  following  there  is  a  tavern,  with 
a  wide  porch  and  green  blinds.  Stop  there  and  tell  them  what 
is  wanted,  and  they  will  do  the  rest." 

"I  can't  leave  you  here  alone,"  I  answered,  nowise  inclined 
to  do  as  he  said. 

"There  is  no  danger;  and  how  will  I  dispose  of  Burke  if 
you  don't  go  for  help?"  he  replied. 


226  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"All  right,  I'll  go,"  I  answered,  seeing  there  was  no  other 
way. 

"That  is  a  brave  lad!  Tell  them  to  send  a  surgeon  and 
a  man  to  aid.  There !  not  another  word.  The  dapple-gray 
mare  is  as  gentle  as  a  lamb,  and  will  carry  you  like  the  wind"; 
and  without  saying  more  he  went  and  brought  her  to  where 
I  stood,  and  lifting  me  into  the  saddle,  shortened  the  stirrups 
and  tightened  the  girth.  "Don't  spare  her,  my  lad.  She  is 
good  for  fifty  miles,  and  a  better  horse  you  never  had  at  Wild 
Plum,  if  you  have  the  strength  to  stand  the  ride." 

"I'm  as  strong  as  an  ox,"  I  answered;  "and  you  know  I'm 
used  to  horses." 

"Yes;  but  look  well  to  the  saddlebags,  my  boy,  for  the 
money  is  not  mine.  Now  be  off,  and  God  bless  you ! "  he  cried, 
stepping  back  and  waving  me  away. 

Glancing  over  my  shoulder  as  I  shot  under  the  trees,  he 
stood  where  I  left  him,  watching  and  waving  me  a  fond  adieu. 
For  a  while  the  cool  air  and  the  novelty  of  my  errand  buoyed 
me  up,  but  after  a  time,  being  greatly  worn  in  body,  I  lost 
somewhat  the  security  of  my  seat.  This  I  thought  due  to  the 
swaying  of  the  overwrought  animal,  and  not  to  any  lack  of 
steadiness  on  my  part;  but  alarmed,  I  grasped  the  saddle, 
urging  the  horse  with  whip  and  rein  to  still  greater  speed. 
Going  on,  strive  as  I  would,  every  trifling  thing  jarred  my 
nerves  and  agitated  my  mind,  and  soon  strange  fantasies 
such  as  I  had  never  seen  before  began  to  dance  before  my 
eyes.  Riding  with  my  back  to  the  moon,  my  very  shadow  came 
to  perplex  me,  as  if  it  were  some  unnatural  thing.  Now  it 
would  run  on  ahead,  as  if  afraid,  only  to  halt  directly  for  me 
to  overtake  it.  Then,  as  if  tired  of  the  road,  it  would  wander 
off  into  the  bushes,  climbing  the  sides  of  the  hills  and  trees  in 
the  strangest  possible  way.  Why  did  it  not  go  on  before  me, 
as  a  shadow  should?  Then  I  would  be  conscious  that  its  vaga- 
ries were  caused  by  the  windings  and  inequalities  of  the  road, 
and  nothing  else;  but  straightway  I  had  convinced  myself  that 
this  was  so,  I  would  fall  to  speculating  about  it  again,  as  if  it 


The  Ride  for  Life  227 

somehow  boded  me  evil.  How  strangely,  too,  the  trees  and 
road  blended  at  times  or  were  lost  to  sight  in  utter  blackness! 
Surely  there  was  some  mist  or  storm  coming  on  with  the 
dawn!  .Then  again  I  would  seem  to  topple  and  fall  from  my 
horse,  only  to  find  myself  a  moment  after  holding  hard  and 
going  faster  than  before.  What  strange  forms  the  objects  by 
the  roadside  took  on,  and  how  dim  and  tired  my  eyes  with 
looking!  Or  was  it  the  wind?  Yes,  that  was  it,  for  I  was 
always  affected  that  way  at  Wild  Plum  when  riding  at  full 
speed.  With  all  this,  I  was  consumed  with  a  burning  desire 
to  get  on,  and  faster,  as  if  the  world  were  about  to  stop  and 
the  sky  fall.  This  mare  of  Uncle  Job's  that  he  thought  so  fine, 
why,  my  pony  could  beat  her;  and  with  the  thought  I  fell  to 
pounding  her  sides  with  my  heels  to  make  her  go  the  faster. 
What  mattered  the  smoke  that  steamed  from  her  sides  and  the 
foam  that  flecked  her  head  and  shoulders  if  she  could  do  no 
better  than  this!  Then  changing,  I  would  praise  her,  patting 
her  shoulder  and  calling  her  the  bravest  horse  in  the  world. 
How  dreary  and  long- the  road,  though  !  And  its  many  devious 
windings!  Why  were  these  not  straightened?  The  hills,  too! 
Surely  they  might  be  made  easier! 

Going  on  in  this  mood,  the  moon  died  out  and  the  gray  of 
the  morning  came  on  as  I  reached  the  open  country,  and  look- 
ing away  saw  the  great  river,  black  and  glimmering  as  if  with 
a  sickness  of  some  kind.  By  this  I  knew  I  was  far  on  my  way, 
and  urging  my  horse  to  still  greater  speed,  rocking  this  way 
and  that,  I  came  at  last,  without  expectation,  full  upon  the 
town.  Now  indeed  I  was  sure,  but  without  halting  or  looking 
to  right  or  left  I  flew  onward,  until  in  the  uncertain  light 
I  came  straight  upon  the  park,  as  Uncle  Job  had  said.  Pull- 
ing my  horse  on  her  haunches,  the  little  tavern,  with  its  sign 
dangling  in  the  still  air,  was  at  my  very  elbow.  With  the 
sight  I  slipped  from  my  saddle  and  ran  to  the  door,  beating  it 
with  my  hands  and  forehead,  crying  all  the  time,  "Open! 
open!  open!"  No  response,  however,  came  to  my  summons 
until  my  voice  grew  hoarse  with  the  effort.  Then,  as  my 


228  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

strength  was  leaving  me  and  my  sight  grew  dim,  the  door  flew 
open,  and  I  fell  forward  into  the  arms  of  the  man  who  held  it. 
Of  sense  I  had  none  left,  nor  of  voice  scarce  enough  to  be 
heard,  but  clutching  him  as  a  drowning  man  might,  I  cried : 

"I'm  from  Uncle  Job — he's  at  the  cabin  in  Murderer's 
Hollow!  Go — quick,  and — take  a  surgeon — and  help — and — 
and — look  to  the  saddlebags,  and — "  But  that  was  all,  and 
sinking  down,  I  thought  I  was  dying,  and  was  glad,  as  one 
might  be  who  throws  off  a  burden  too  heavy  to  bear. 


CHAPTER   XXXI 

CONSTANCE 

When  I  opened  my  eyes,  I  lay  without  moving,  staring  and 
unconscious  of  life  as  if  I  had  never  been.  Presently,  tiring 
with  the  effort,  I  sank  back  into  the  blackness  and  stillness  of 
night.  Awakening  anew,  and  yet  not  knowing  that  I  lived, 
something  touched  my  lips,  and  I  opened  them  as  a  young  bird 
will,  and  swallowed  what  was  given  me.  Drifting  again  into 
somber  nothingness,  I  revived,  but  after  what  length  of 
time  or  wherefore  I  did  not  know.  Then  a  face  bent  over 
mine,  and  looking  down  into  my  glazed  and  staring  eyes, 
started  back  with  a  sob  or  stifled  cry.  Now  I  began  to  watch 
the  shadows  of  the  room,  as  a  child  might,  without  knowing 
they  were  shadows  or  what  they  signified.  Relapsing  once 
more  into  unconsciousness,  I  awakened,  and  after  a  while  fell 
to  tracing  the  objects  about  me,  and  with  some  thought  that  I 
had  seen  them  before,  but  distrustfully,  so  weak  was  my  under- 
standing. Thus  days  passed,  wherein  a  shadowy  face  bent 
over  mine,  with  sorrowful  eyes  that  were  always  anxious  and 
often  filled  with  tears.  Gaining  strength,  I  made  out,  little 
by  little,  the  things  about  me,  and  doing  so,  smiled  as  children 
will  in  their  sleep  or  when  a  toy  is  flashed  before  their  eyes. 
By  and  by  the  objects  more  distinct  began  to  fix  themselves, 
and  in  the  guise  of  friends,  but  drifting,  and  purposely,  as  if  to 
elude  me. 

Thus  the  past  came  back,  until  at  last  I  need  no  longer 
study  the  great  canopied  bed  with  its  dangling  laces,  nor  the 
faces  of  the  king  and  his  minister  staring  at  me  from  off  the 
wall.  They  were  friends,  and  craning  my  neck,  I  looked 
about  for  the  curious  table,  and  in  the  sweep  of  my  eye  caught 
229 


230  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

sight  of  my  old  enemy,  the  timber-wolf,  above  the  door. 
I  was  not  at  Wild  Plum,  then !  That  was  gone ;  but  next  to  it, 
and  now  as  dear,  at  the  Dragon — Constance's  home.  Beyond 
the  window  were  the  big  trees  and  Little  Sandy,  and  about  me 
the  treasures  that  Constance  and  her  father  loved.  Here  it 
was  I  had  dined  and  gone  to  sleep,  and  strange  that  it  should 
seem  so  long  when  only  a  night  had  passed !  It  was  time  to 
rise,  and  with  the  thought  I  sought  to  lift  my  head,  but  all  in 
vain.  Falling  back  and  resting,  other  thoughts  came,  and  not 
like  shadows:  the  flight  from  Wild  Plum,  Moth,  the  jail, 
Murderer's  Hollow!  At  this  last  I  shuddered,  so  real  did  it 
appear.  Was  it  a  dream  after  all,  or  was  I  dreaming  now? 
Surely  the  one  or  the  other!  Worn  out,  I  raised  my  hand;  but 
how  white  and  thin  it  looked!  I  had  been  ill,  then,  and  so 
had  never  left  the  Dragon  and  Little  Sandy.  That  was  it;  the 
things  I  remembered  were  visions  and  nothing  else.  Reason- 
ing thus,  I  sighed  as  one  will  whose  heart  is  weak  or  breaking; 
and  scarce  had  it  passed  my  lips  ere  a  face  dearer  to  me  than 
all  else  in  life  bent  over  mine  with  a  look  of  pity  and  tenderest 
love. 

"Constance!" 

"Gilbert!" 

"Come  nearer,  dearest,  so  I  can  see  you  better,"  I  whis- 
pered, after  a  while,  afraid  to  speak  aloud  lest  the  vision  vanish. 

"My  face  touches  yours,  Gilbert." 

"Then  kiss  me  and  put  your  arms  about  my  neck," 
I  answered,  partly  reassured. 

"Yes,  you  dear  child!  I'll  do  anything  you  say." 

"Oh,  I  am  so  weary  and  tired,  Constance,"  I  answered, 
striving  to  return  her  caress. 

"Yes,  but  you  will  be  stronger  soon  if  you  lie  still";  and 
the  sweet  angel  laid  her  fingers  on  my  lips,  keeping  her  face 
close  to  mine  as  I  had  asked.  Kissing  her  hand,  I  had  no 
wish  to  disobey  if  only  I  might  look  into  her  eyes  and  feel  her 
breath  upon  my  face;  and  lest  it  should  be  only  a  dream,  I  lay 
still,  and  looking  into  her  eyes,  sank  into  a  gentle  sleep. 


Constance  231 

Awakening,  I  found  her  bending  over  me  with  anxious  eyes 
and  troubled  face. 

"Constance!  you  are  still  there?" 

"Yes,  always." 

"Tell  me  I'm  awake." 

"Yes,  and  better,  you  dear  boy!" 

"I'm  at  the  Dragon,  and  you  are  surely  Constance?" 
I  asked,  ready  to  cry  out. 

"Yes,  you  know  I'm  Constance";  and  she  bent  over  and 
kissed  me  as  if  the  better  to  reassure  me. 

"I've  had  such  dreams,  Constance!  such  terrible  dreams!" 

"It's  nothing,  Gilbert.  People  with  fevers  always  have 
dreams,"  she  answered,  caressing  my  face. 

"I  thought  I  left  Little  Sandy  with  Uncle  Job,  and  then 
a  lot  of  things  happened." 

"Yes;  but  don't  think  of  it  any  more.  Dreams  never 
come  true,  you  know,"  she  answered,  placing  her  face  beside 
mine. 

"I  won't;  only  I'm  glad  I'm  in  Little  Sandy,"  I  answered, 
lying  still.  When  I  next  awoke  Uncle  Job  and  Setti  were 
beside  me,  my  hands  clasped  in  theirs. 

"You  are  better,  Gilbert,"  Uncle  Job  spoke  up,  stopping 
short,  as  if  something  choked  him. 

"I'm  all  right,"  I  answered,  feeling  stronger. 

"You  are  a  Little  Prince,  and  my  True  Knight  forever," 
Setti  exclaimed,  bending  over  me  and  taking  my  face  in  both 
her  hands. 

"I'll  be  anything  you  wish,  Setti,  you  know,"  I  answered, 
striving  to  answer  with  some  spirit. 

"Then  I  must  be  careful,"  she  answered,  smiling  through 
her  tears  and  kissing  me. 

"No,  you  mustn't,"  I  cried,  in  great  spirits.  Then  turning 
to  Uncle  Job  I  went  on:  "I'm  sorry  to  have  kept  you  here, 
uncle,  but  I  couldn't  help  it.  I've  never  been  very  strong, 
you  know,"  I  added,  thinking  how  little  a  thing  it  took  to 
upset  me. 


232  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"I  said  I  wanted  to  stay  longer  in  Little  Sandy,  you  remem- 
ber," he  replied,  with  a  show  of  being  cheerful. 

"Your  business  needed  you,  though." 

"Men  always  say  that,  Gilbert,"  he  answered,  as  if  it  were 
nothing. 

"What  about  Aunt  Jane?"  I  asked,  fearing  to  speak  her 
name. 

"Oh,  she  will  never  bother  you  any  more." 

"I'm  glad  of  that,  for  I  dreamed  she  had  a  man  who  fol- 
lowed me  everywhere,  giving  me  no  peace." 

"Poor  boy!  but  you  must  lie  still,  the  doctor  says,  if  you' 
want  to  get  well,"  he  answered,  turning  away. 

"I've  a  lot  I  want  to  say,  Uncle  Job,"  I  cried,  following 
him  with  my  eyes. 

"Yes,  but  not  now,  Gilbert,"  Constance  interposed,  com- 
ing to  my  side  and  laying  her  hand  on  my  lips.  "Your  fever 
will  surely  come  back  if  you  don't  keep  quiet." 

"I  must  talk,  or  you'll  all  vanish  and  it  will  turn  out  to  be  a 
dream,  I  know  it  will,"  I  answered,  holding  tight  to  her  hand. 

"No,  for  it's  all  real.  Please  lie  still  now,  Gilbert;  for  my 
sake,"  she  whispered,  bending  over  me. 

"I  will  if  you'll  stay  and  sit  where  I  can  see  you";  and 
reaching  out  I  sought  to  lay  hold  of  her,  but  eluding  me,  as  if 
she  were  a  shadow,  her  form  faded  from  my  sight  and  I  knew 
no  more.  Coming  to  again,  my  first  thought  was  of  her,  and 
she,  sweet  angel,  as  if  knowing  it  would  be  so,  was  there  to 
meet  my  anxious  look.  When,  however,  I  would  have  spoken, 
she  placed  her  hand  on  my  lips,  saying: 

"You  must  not  talk";  and  kissing  her  hand,  I  was  fain  to 
do  as  she  said. 

In  this  way  many  days  passed,  Constance  giving  me  nour- 
ishment, and  sitting  beside  me,  her  hand  clasped  in  mine. 
When  sometimes  I  would  have  talked  in  spite  of  her,  she 
would  leave  her  seat  as  if  to  go  away;  at  which  I  would  do  as 
she  wished,  only  looking  always  into  her  sweet  face  and  gath- 
ering there  some  new  hope  of  life  and  happiness. 


Constance  233 

"You  are  my  little  mother,  Constance,  only  different  from 
her,  and  not  different  either,"  I  said  one  day. 

"Yes,  always  your  little  mother,"  she  answered,  taking  my 
hand. 

"You  will  not  go  away  as  she  did,  though?"  I  answered, 
the  fear  of  losing  her  being  always  uppermost  in  my  mind,  so 
sore  was  my  heart. 

"You  dear  boy,  you  know  I  will  never  leave  you,"  she 
answered,  smiling  and  patting  my  hand. 

Lying  thus,  my  thoughts  would  sometimes  wander,  in  spite 
of  me,  to  the  visions  of  my  sickness,  but  if  I  sought  to  speak 
of  them  and  so  free  my  mind  and  have  an  end  of  it,  Constance 
would  not  listen,  saying  dreams  always  came  to  those  who  had 
a  fever.  So,  after  a  while,  not  being  able  to  speak  of  them, 
they  faded  away,  as  such  things  will  when  treated  irreverently. 
Thus,  at  last,  I  got  the  peace  of  mind  I  needed.  Save  a  visit 
each  day  from  Uncle  Job  and  Setti,  no  one  came  near  me 
except  Constance  and  the  doctor.  When  I  slept,  Constance 
rested  beside  me  in  a  great  chair,  never  seeming  to  eat  nor 
sleep,  nor  desire  to  do  either.  The  doctor  I  had  never  seen 
before,  but  that  was  not  strange,  not  having  much  need  of 
medicine  up  to  this  time.  He  had  little  to  say  save  to  tell  me 
I  would  soon  be  on  my  feet  if  I  but  did  as  Constance  told  me. 
One  day,  however,  more  talkative  than  usual,  he  said,  smiling 
on  her,  and  softly  tapping  his  medicine-case: 

"You  have  been  ill  to  death,  my  lad,  and  but  for  this  little 
woman,  and  the  calomel  and  jalap,  would  "have  surely  died." 

"I  know  it;  and  except  for  her  I'd  not  care  to  live," 
I  answered,  my  throat  filling.  Nothing,  indeed,  could  exceed 
my  love  for  the  sweet  girl,  and  it  added  to  my  happiness  now 
to  think  I  should  always  owe  my  life  to  her  and  her  tender  care. 

As  I  grew  stronger,  Setti  came  and  sat  beside  me,  and 
I  have  ever  been  grateful  for  this  chance  that  made  the  gentle 
being  known  to  me.  For  with  her  shy  ways  I  else  had  never 
known  her  as  the  tender  and  good  in  woman  should  be  by 
those  who  hold  them  in  respect.  As  I  gained  strength  Uncle 


234  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

Job's  visits  were  more  frequent,  but  further  than  caressing  my 
hand  or  face  he  scarce  said  a  word,  so  soft  was  his  heart.  The 
great  care  with  which  they  watched  over  me  I  must  believe  to 
have  been  needed;  for  one  day,  when  I  disregarded  some  order 
of  Constance's,  I  fell  into  such  a  dreadful  faint  that  all  their 
efforts  to  bring  me  to  were  vain,  until  Uncle  Job  and  the 
doctor  had  been  sent  for;  and  thus  I  found  them  grouped 
about  my  bed  when  I  revived.  When  at  last  I  had  gained 
strength  and  was  pronounced  out  of  danger,  I  one  day  asked 
Constance  if  Aunt  Jane  had  been  to  see  me,  thinking  it  strange 
if  she  had  not,  even  in  one  so  cold.  For  a  time  Constance  did 
not  reply,  and  when  she  did  it  was  not  like  her,  but  as  if  she 
were  acting  a  part. 

"No,  your  aunt  has  not  been  here,  Gilbert.  Do  you  care 
much?" 

"I  don't  know.  Only  I  thought  she  might  have  come  while 
I  was  sick." 

"It's  so  far,  Gilbert,  you  know." 

"So  far!  her  farm  is  scarce  half  an  hour's  ride,  Con- 
stance. She  can't  care  for  me.  Or  haven't  you  told  her?" 

"No,  she  doesn't  know,  Gilbert." 

"Oh,"  I  answered,  not  wondering  much,  but  still  feeling  as 
if  she  ought  to  have  been  told.  "Didn't  you  want  her  to 
know?" 

"We  thought  to  write  her,  but  put  it  off  from  day  to  day, 
hoping  you  would  be  better.  " 

"To  write  her?"  I  answered,  only  the  more  puzzled. 

"You  don't  understand,  Gilbert,"  Constance  answered, 
moving  about  the  room,  as  she  had  a  way  of  doing  when  any- 
way disturbed.  After  a  while,  recovering  herself,  she  went 
on,  "Suppose  your  aunt  is  farther  away  than  you  think, 
Gilbert?" 

"I  don't  understand,  Constance,  unless  she  is  dead  or  has 
moved  away,"  I  answered,  greatly  disturbed. 

"Suppose  this  is  not  Little  Sandy,  but  Appletop.  What 
would  you  say  to  that,  Gilbert?"  she  asked,  kissing  me. 


Constance  235 

At  this  I  was  more  bewildered  than  ever,  not  being  able 
in  any  way  to  make  out  the  sense  of  what  she  was  saying. 

"How  can  that  be  and  you  here?"  I  answered  at  last. 

"Well,  would  it  be  so  very  strange?  I  might  be  in  Apple- 
top,  you  know,  "she  answered,  as  if  leading  me  on. 

"This  room,  too!  It  couldn't  be  in  both  places!"  I  cried, 
thinking  that  for  some  reason  she  was  seeking  to  mislead  me. 

"Might  we  not  have  moved  to  Appletop  and  brought  these 
things  with  us?  That  would  make  it  clear,"  she  answered, 
bending  over  me. 

"Yes — I  don't  know — only  tell  me  quick!"  I  answered. 

"That  is  how  it  is,  Gilbert.  This  is  not  Little  Sandy,  but 
Appletop,"  she  replied,  pressing  her  face  down  close  beside 
mine.  After  a  while,  raising  her  head  and  smiling  on  me  in 
tenderest  love,  she  added:  "Are  you  glad,  Gilbert!" 

"Yes,  you  being  here,"  I  answered,  not  so  much  surprised 
after  all,  if  the  truth  were  told,  for  I  could  never  quite  make 
myself  believe  that  some  part  of  my  dream  was  not  true.  "I 
so  longed  to  see  you  after  we  left  Little  Sandy,"  I  went  on, 
"that  I  always  wished  myself  back,  though  a  hundred  Moths 
and  Aunt  Janes  were  in  the  way." 

"Then  you  are  not  worried?"  she  asked,  kissing  me  again. 

"No;  why  should  I  be?  but  have  I  been  sick  long?" 

"Yes,  many  weeks." 

"How  did  it  happen?  I  can't  remember  that  I  was  ailing," 
I  answered. 

"You  broke  down  that  morning  when  you  came  to  our  door, 
and  for  weeks  knew  nobody,  but  raved  continually  about  Moth 
and  Burke  and  the  wild  animals  that  had  you  imprisoned  in  a 
tree  of  some  kind." 

"Did  I  talk  about  such  things?"  I  asked 

"Yes." 

"I'm  a  poor  stick,  always  breaking  down  and  making  a 
show  of  myself,"  I  answered,  ashamed  of  my  weakness. 

"No,  you  are  not.  The  doctor  said  your  sickness  was 
brought  on  by  fatigue  and  lack  of  food  and  sleep.  It  was  your 


236  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

coming  to,  though,  he  most  dreaded,  fearing  you  would  lose 
your  mind." 

"Now  I  see  why  I  am  in  this  room,  and  why  you  have  made 
it  like  the  old  one,"  I  answered,  tears  coming  to  my  eyes  at 
the  thought  of  their  kindness. 

"Yes,  we  fixed  it  up  like  the  other  so  you  would  think  you 
were  in  Little  Sandy.  See,"  she  added,  going  to  the  window 
and  throwing  back  the  curtain,  "this  is  not  the  old  square, 
but  another,  larger  and  finer,  with  a  house  hidden  away  in  the 
trees." 

"Where  all  the  roads  meet,  as  Uncle  Job  said,"  I  answered, 
putting  my  arm  about  her  and  kissing  her  in  such  delight  of 
living  as  I  had  never  known  before. 

"There;  you  will  bring  on  your  fever  again  if  you  act  in 
that  way,  you  wild  boy!"  she  answered,  drawing  back. 

"I  don't  care  if  I  do,"  I  answered,  reaching  out  and  taking 
her  hand  and  pressing  it  to  my  lips. 

"Then  you  don't  mind  my  not  telling  you  all  this  before?" 
she  asked,  as  if  she  had  been  in  doubt  how  I  would  take  the 
part  she  had  played  in  misleading  me. 

"No,  for  now  I'll  not  have  to  leave  you  again.  Tell  me, 
Constance,"  I  asked,  after  a  while,  "why  has  your  father  not 
been  to  see  me?  I've  looked  for  him  every  day." 

"He  had  to  go  back  to  Little  Sandy,  but  will  be  here  in  a 
few  days.  It  was  he  who  caught  you  that  morning." 

"Was  it?     I  couldn't  see." 

"We  never  expected  to  hear  you  speak  again,  for  you  lay 
for  hours  as  if  dead.  Then  sleeping  and  waking  you  uttered 
frightful  cries,  and  for  weeks  we  stood  about  your  bed,  watch- 
ing and  praying,"  Constance  answered,  tears  dimming  her  soft 
eyes  at  the  remembrance. 

The  next  day,  being  stronger  than  ever,  Constance  said  I 
might  talk,  and  with  that  I  fell  to  questioning  her  about  every- 
thing that  had  happened,  and  particularly  about  Uncle  Job, 
who,  next  to  her,  was  ever  uppermost  in  my  thoughts. 


Constance  237 

"Did  some  one  go  to  Uncle  Job  that  night?"  I  asked. 

"Yes;  papa  and  the  doctor." 

"What  did  they  find?"  I  asked,  lifting  myself  up. 

"They  found  your  Uncle  Job  guarding  Burke  and  trying  to 
bring  the  other  man  to  life,"  she  replied. 

"Did  he  succeed?"  I  asked,  remembering  poor  Blott,  and 
with  what  courage  he  had  stood  up  at  the  last. 

"No;  but  the  doctor  soon  brought  him  to." 

"How  is  he  now?" 

"He  is  well  and  at  work  about  the  stables.  Papa  doesn't 
think  he  is  bad,  only  weak,  and  that  Burke  misled  him." 

"Burke!"  I  exclaimed,  a  tremor  creeping  over  me  at  the 
thought  of  that  cruel  villain  and  his  soft,  purring  way.  "What 
did  they  do  with  him?" 

"They  put  him  in  prison,  but  when  Blott  refused  to  appear 
against  him  he  was  released." 

"  Why  wouldn't  Blott  appear?"  I  asked,  surprised. 

"Every  one  urged  him  to,  but  he  said  he  was  as  bad  as 
Burke." 

"They  ought  not  to  have  let  Burke  go!"  I  cried,  thinking 
of  Uncle  Job. 

"That  is  what  papa  said,  but  the  jail  was  full  and  they 
would  have  had  to  board  him,  and  the  town  being  poor,  they 
didn't  want  to  do  that,  no  one  appearing  against  him." 

"It's  too  bad,"  I  answered,  all  Burke's  cunning  and  wick- 
edness rising  before  me.  "Didn't  Uncle  Job  try  to  detain 
him?" 

"No;  and  he  seemed  much  relieved  when  Burke  was 
released  and  left  the  town,  at  which  we  all  wondered." 

"I-t  was  like  him  not  to  think  of  himself,"  I  answered, 
remembering  the  Singletons,  and  why  Uncle  Job  should  wish 
Burke  anywhere  but  in  Appletop. 

"Has  he  anything  to  fear  from  Burke  any  more  than 
others?"  Constance  asked,  as  if  my  alarm  had  in  some  way 
communicated  itself  to  her. 


238  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"Oh,   hasn't  he  told  you?"  I  asked,  stopping  short;  for  if 
uncle  had  said  nothing  about  the  conspiracy  to  kill  him,  ought 
I  to  tell? 
"No." 

At  this  I  wondered,  not  being  able  to  see  any  reason  why 
he  should  not  have  told  Mr.  Seymour.  Anyway,  I  determined 
to  tell  Constance,  and  this  I  did,  but  without  referring  to  the 
Singletons  or  what  happened  on  the  boat  Constance  thought 
it  strange,  and  straightway  began  to  wonder  who  there  could 
be  in  Appletop  that  wished  Uncle  Job  harm,  but  fruitlessly. 
Indeed,  after  a  while  we  concluded  it  was  but  a  ruse  of  Burke's 
to  give  him  an  excuse  for  keeping  more  than  his  share  of  the 
money.  This,  we  made  up  our  minds,  was  what  Uncle  Job 
thought,  and  so  when  he  came  to  visit  me  I  ventured  to  say  as 
much,  but  without  his  vouchsafing  any  reply. 

"Did  Uncle  Job  get  hurt  that  night?"  I  asked,  continuing 
my  talk  with  Constance,  the  better  to  keep  her  by  my  side. 

"No;  but  when  he  saw  you  on  his  return  he  was  nearly 
crazed,  blaming  himself  for  all  you  suffered.  Nor  did  he  leave 
the  house  until  the  doctor  pronounced  you  out  of  danger.  He 
was  like  one  out  of  his  mind,  and  would  not  go  to  his  room, 
but  slept  on  a  cot  before  your  door.  Had  you  died  it  would 
have  killed  him,  the  doctor  said,  so  much  was  he  wrought  up 
over  your  misfortunes." 

"Poor  uncle!  he  was  in  no  way  to  blame,"  I  answered. 
"Tell  me,  Constance,  how  it  was  that  you  came  to  leave  Little 
Sandy?"  I  asked,  flying  from  one  thing  to  another,  as  people 
will  whose  minds  are  weak.  "You  had  no  thought  of  it  when 
I  came  away." 

"No;  but  papa  had  grown  to  dislike  the  place.  After  my 
mother  died  he  wanted  to  leave,  and  when  your  father  and 
mother  were  gone,  he  was  still  more  inclined  that  way.  So 
when  your  Uncle  Job  wrote  to  him  to  come  to  Appletop,  he  did 
not  wait  to  write,  but  taking  everything,  we  drove  across 
the  country,  following  the  route  you  took.  When  we  got  here 
we  were  disappointed  not  to  find  you,  papa  not  less  than  I,  for 


Constance  239 

you  know  he  has  loved  you  as  if  you  were  his  son  since  that 
day  you  saved  my  life." 

At  this,  too  full  for  speech,  I  drew  her  to  my  side  and 
kissed  her.  For  the  doctor  would  have  it  that  I  should  lie  in 
bed  part  of  the  day,  to  ease  my  heart,  he  said — though  why 
my  heart  should  need  easing  I  could  not  understand;  but 
doctors — once  they  get  you  at  a  disadvantage — exact  all  kinds 
of  things  of  you,  as  every  one  knows,  though  for  good  reasons, 
it  is  probable,  in  most  cases. 

"How  long  have  you  been  in  Appletop?"  I  went  on,  that  I 
might  still  hear  her  voice. 

"We  had  only  been  here  a  little  while  when  you  came." 

"How  did  you  find  time  to  fix  this  room?"  I  asked,  won- 
dering, it  was  so  like  the  other. 

"It  gave  us  a  lot  of  trouble,  for  carpenters  are  hard  to  get 
here;  but  papa  is  pleased,  for  it  is  dearer  to  him  than  every- 
thing else." 

"I  know;  and  have  you  named  this  place  the  Dragon?"  I 
asked,  smoothing  out  her  hair,  which  was  ever  inclined  to  fly 
apart  as  if  impatient  of  restraint. 

"Yes;  for  any  other  would  seem  odd." 

"The  sign,  too,  is  it  like  the  old  one?" 

"Worse,  because  better  painted,  papa  says.  He  does  better 
in  water-colors  though." 

"Did  he  paint  it?" 

"Yes." 

"Can  he  paint  real  pictures,  too?"  I  asked,  thinking  how 
beautiful  she  was  with  the  sun  shining  in  her  hair. 

"Yes,  but  no  one  is  to  know  it,"  she  replied;  "though 
why-;  I  don't  know." 

"No?"  I  answered,  gazing  on  her  dear  form  and  thinking 
how  much  more  fortunate  I  was  than  other  youths,  and  all 
because  of  her  love  and  tender  ways. 


CHAPTER   XXXII 

CONVALESCENCE 

One  day  when  I  was  well  on  my  way  toward  recovery,  I  was 
made  happy  by  a  visit  from  Mrs.  Singleton.  I  could  plainly 
hear  her  inquiries  as  she  mounted  the  stairs,  and  so  was  in  a 
measure  prepared  to  receive  the  dear  lady  and  respond  to 
her  loving  embrace  and  multiplied  questions  when  she  finally 
entered  the  room. 

"You  are  feeling  better,  I  know,  for  your  looks  show  it!" 
she  exclaimed,  holding  my  hand  and  putting  an  arm  about 
Constance. 

"Yes,  thank  you;  I'm  a  good  deal  better,"  I  answered, 
grateful  for  what  she  said.  For  there  are  no  more  disagree- 
able people  than  those  who  tell  you  just  how  you  look  when 
you  are  ailing.  Because  of  this  I  have  always  maintained  that 
if  you  have  nothing  agreeable  to  say  about  one's  looks,  you 
should  be  silent.  Or  if  you  must  babble  about  such  matters, 
should  say  something  that  will  not  depress  those  you  address 
too  much. 

"I  have  been  kept  away  from  you,  my  child,  by  the  vexa- 
tions of  housekeeping,"  Mrs.  Singleton  went  on,  "but  have 
known  every  day  how  you  were  getting  on." 

"I  expect  you  find  it  very  hard  to  get  started  in  your  new 
home,"  I  answered. 

"Yes;  the  worry  is  enough  to  drive  one  mad,  and  it  is  made 
worse  by  the  trouble  of  getting  or  keeping  a  servant." 

"Do  you  like  Appletop  as  well  as  you  expected?"  I  asked 
at  a  venture. 

"Oh,  yes,  and  so  does  Mr.  Singleton,  who  has  a  fine  busi- 
ness; but  my  girls!  they  drive  me  wild." 
240 


Convalescence  241 

"I'm  sorry  to  hear  that,"  I  answered,  not  sympathizing 
with  her  very  much,  for  she  was  the  very  picture  of  health  and 
comfort  of  life. 

"Yes;  they  say  we  left  slavery  in  Mississippi  to  make  slaves, 
of  them  here,  and  indeed  it  is  like  it  in  many  ways.  For  they 
have  to  be  taught  to  wash  and  iron  and  cook,  just  as  they 
were  taught  music  when  little  things;  and  not  knowing  how, 
their  hands  are  skinned  by  the  washboard  and  burned  by  hot 
irons  until  they  are  a  sight  to  see." 

"That's  too  bad." 

"Yes;  but  they  are  getting  on  better  now,  though  they 
manage  in  one  way  and  another  to  put  most  of  the  work  on 
poor  Betty." 

"How  does  Miss  Betty  like  that?"  I  asked,  glad  of  the 
reference  because  of  my  fondness  for  her. 

"She  says  she  doesn't  care,  and  that  in  time  she  will  be  the 
best  cook  in  the  state." 

"There's  always  one  worker  in  every  family,  they  say,"  I 
answered. 

"Oh,  the  others  like  to  work,  though  not  to  cook;  but  it 
is  said,  you  know,  that  the  acorn  that  doesn't  sprout  the  pigs 
eat,  and  so  what  one  of  the  dear  things  lacks,  the  others  make 
up  for,"  she  answered,  with  a  good  deal  of  pride. 

"That's  true,  I'm  sure;  but  haven't  you  any  wish  to  ga 
back  to  Mississippi?"  I  asked,  to  encourage  her  to  talk. 

"No,  not  if  we  could.  The  girls  like  it  here  too,  I  am  sure, 
if  their  thoughts  were  known,  the  air  and  the  freedom  are  sa 
fine.  They  all  send  their  love,  and  will  come  and  see  you  when 
the  doctor  and  Constance  will  permit,"  she  answered,  kissing 
the  sweet  girl  by  her  side. 

"I'm  sure  I  shall  be  glad  to  see  them,"  I  answered, 
remembering  their  pleasant  ways  and  many  kindnesses  to  me. 

"Here  is  something  Betty  sends  you,  and  it  is  her  own 
make,"  Mrs.  Singleton  replied,  removing  the  cover  from  a 
dish  of  jelly  that  looked  like  amber  in  the  morning  sunlight. 

"Tell  Miss  Betty  I'm  much  obliged  to  her,"  I  answered, 


242  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

asking  for  a  spoon  that  I  might  try  it  at  once.  For  I  was  now 
hungry  all  the  time,  and  my  thoughts  dwelt  more  on  delicacies 
like  this  than  anything  else. 

"That  will  please  her,  the  dear  child,  for  she  is  never  so 
happy  as  when  doing  things  of  this  kind." 

"It's  good  of  her  to  remember  me  and  she  may  send  me 
more  another  day,  if  she  has  a  mind,"  I  answered,  as  if  in 
banter  and  yet  meaning  it,  for  such  things  were  hard  to  get  in 
Appletop. 

"That  she  will,  my  dear,  and  bring  it  herself,  if  she  may," 
Mrs.  Singleton  answered,  turning  to  Constance. 

"I  hope  she  will,  for  it  will  do  Gilbert  good  to  see  his 
friends  now,"  Constance  spoke  up,  pleased  with  the  kindness 
shown  me ;  for  Mrs.  Singleton  and  her  daughters  were  loved  by 
every  one  in  Appletop,  because  of  their  kind  hearts  and 
unaffected  ways. 

When  the  dear  lady  had  taken  her  departure,  I  said  to 
Constance,  remembering  why  the  Singletons  left  Mississippi: 

"Have  the  girls  any  beaus?" 

"Yes,  and  Miss  Betty  more  especially." 

"She  is  the  worker,  too." 

"It's  not  on  that  account,  though  perhaps  it  is  a  recom- 
mendation ;  but  her  being  a  worker  doesn't  prevent  your  Uncle 
Job  going  there  very  often." 

"Uncle  Job,  is  he  paying  her  attention?"  I  asked,  not  much 
surprised,  remembering  what  I  had  seen  at  the  steamboat 
landing. 

"Yes,  he  is  desperately  in  love  with  her;  and  she  is  worthy 
of  it,  too,"  Constance  answered. 

"I'm  sure  she  is;  and  does  she  care  for  him?"  I  asked. 

"I  think  so,  but  she  is  so  full  of  her  pretty  ways  and  love 
of  everybody  that  I  can't  tell.  Sometimes  I  think  she  favors 
him  very  much,  and  then  I  don't  know." 

"Is  there  any  one  else  who  pays  her  attention?"  I  asked, 
interested  at  once  in  Uncle  Job's  suit. 

"Yes,  his  partner,  Mr.  Rathe,  is  madly  in  love  with  her, 


Convalescence  243 

they  say,  though  she  doesn't  give  him  any  encouragement," 
she  answered. 

"I  didn't  know  Uncle  Job  had  a  partner,"  I  responded, 
surprised,  I  know  not  why,  but  more  that  there  should  be 
rivalry  between  them  in  such  a  matter;  "what  has  he  got  a 
partner  for,  anyway?" 

"Papa  asked  him  that,  and  he  said  because  his  business 
called  him  away  so  much." 

"Who  is  Rathe?"  I  inquired,  feeling  somehow  a  growing 
enmity  toward  him. 

"I  don't  know — no  one  does,  I  think;  but  that  is  nothing 
here  where  most  people  are  strangers  to  each  other,  except 
as  they  are  thrown  together  and  so  get  acquainted,"  she 
answered,  simply. 

"What  do  you  think  of  him?"  I  asked,  feeling  that  if  she 
liked  him  he  must  be  all  right.  For  every  true  woman  has 
that  strange  knowledge  of  men  that  cannot  go  wrong,  and  so 
makes  them  a  safe  guide  in  such  matters.  Constance  not 
answering,  I  added :  "Or  maybe  you  don't  know  him  very  well?" 

"I  have  hardly  seen  him,  and  so  ought  not  to  judge,"  she 
answered,  as  if  evading  my  inquiry. 

Thinking  of  what  she  said,  I  braced  myself  to  ask  a 
question  that  had  been  on  my  lips  since  she  told  me  I  was  in 
Appletop,  but  somehow,  when  I  would  have  spoken,  the  words 
stuck  in  my  throat,  as  medicine  sometimes  will.  Now,  because 
of  Uncle  Job's  troubles,  I  determined  to  speak  out,  and  so 
asked: 

"Has  Moth  been  here?" 

"Yes;  they  had  scarcely  led  your  horse  to  the  stable  when 
he  rode  up  to  make  inquiries;  but  papa,  pretending  to  fly  into 
a  rage,  cried  out  that  if  he  ever  spoke  to  him  again  or  crossed 
his  door  he  would  have  him  ducked  in  the  river  for  harassing 
you  so";  and  her  face  lighted  at  the  recollection  as  if  the 
remembrance  pleased  her  greatly. 

"What  did  Moth  do  then?" 

"Oh,  he   took   it  in   good  part,  saying  he  did  not  expect 


244  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

help,  and  that  what  he  wanted  was  for  your  good,  however 
others  might  view  it.  After  lingering  about  the  town  for  a 
few  days  he  went  away,  believing,  we  think,  that  you  had  not 
come  to  Appletop;  for  no  one  except  those  we  trust  know 
you  are  here. ' ' 

"That's  good,  and  I  hope  it  is  the  end  of  him,"  I  answered, 
feeling  much  relieved. 

"We  think  it  is,  for  unless  he  has  left  some  one  to  spy 
about,  how  will  he  ever  find  out  you  are  here?"  she  added,  as 
if  to  clinch  the  matter. 

This  mention  filled  me  with  new  apprehension,  for  I 
thought  it  just  like  Moth's  cunning  to  leave  a  spy  behind.  I 
said  nothing  to  Constance,  however,  for  it  would  do  no  good, 
and  rather  than  disturb  her  I  would  have  faced  a  hundred 
Moths,  such  was  the  tenderness  I  felt  for  her.  One  day  not 
long  afterward,  when  we  sat  looking  across  into  the  park,  she 
suddenly  turned  to  me,  saying: 

"You  have  never  asked  about  your  friend  Fox,  Gilbert?" 

"Fox!"  I  answered,  startled  out  of  myself;  for  how  could 
she  know  anything  about  that  strange  man,  half  robber,  half 
priest.  "Who  told  you  about  him?" 

"He  came  here  to  ask  about  you." 

"About  me?' 

"Yes;  late  one  night  a  man  rode  up  to  the  door  and  called 
for  your  Uncle  Job,  and  when  he  went  out,  Fox  was  there. 
He  told  how  you  and  he  escaped  from  the  jail,  adding  that  he 
had  greatly  blamed  himself  for  letting  you  go  off  alone  that 
night." 

"That  was  kind  of  him,"  I  answered,  glad  to  have  been 
remembered,  though  Fox  was  an  outlaw  and  cast-off,  and 
thought  to  be  altogether  bad. 

"Yes;  and  when  your  uncle  told  him  of  your  illness,  he 
was  greatly  distressed,  and  afterward  kept  coming  to  make 
inquiries  till  the  doctor  said  you  were  out  of  danger.  At  last, 
when  he  went  away,  he  asked  your  uncle  to  tell  you  that 
though  he  had  taken  Moth's  horse,  he  had  returned  it  to  the 


Convalescence  245 

owner,  adding,  as  if  to  make  light  of  what  he  had  done,  that 
the  horse  was  a  poor  thing,  anyway,  and  not  worth  keeping." 

"That  was  fine  of  him,  and  to  send  word,  too.  He  is  no 
more  a  robber,  though,  than  I  am,  only  he  has  got  into  a  loose 
way  of  living  and  there  is  no  chance  for  him  to  quit,  I  am 
afraid.  I  only  wish  he  lived  in  Appletop, "  I  added. 

"Why?" 

"Oh,  he'd  be  a  good  friend,  and  one  who  would  help  find 
out  who  is  plotting  against  Uncle  Job,  if  what  Burke  said  was 
true,"  I  answered.  At  this,  and  strangely  enough,  I  thought 
of  Rathe,  but  why  I  do  not  know,  unless  because  of  his  efforts 
to  gain  the  favor  of  Miss  Betty,  and  so  was  an  enemy  of  Uncle 
Job's.  "I  don't  suppose  Uncle  Job  and  Rathe  are  very  good 
friends,  since  they  have  become  rivals?"  I  asked,  determined 
to  learn  all  I  could. 

"I  have   never  heard  your  uncle   say  anything  unkind  of 
him.    He  would  be  too  proud,  though,  to  do  that;  but  Setti  says 
Rathe's  face  is  anything  but  friendly  when  your  uncle's  name 
is  mentioned." 
,   "Does  Rathe  live  at  the  Dragon?" 

"He  did  until  the  last  few  days;  but  he  is  away  most  of  the 
time;  indeed,  your  uncle  and  he  are  hardly  ever  in  town 
together. ' ' 

"Does  he  know  I  am  here?" 

"I  don't  know;  we  have  never  told  him." 

"I  hope  he  doesn't,"  I  answered,  feeling  somehow  as  if  it 
would  be  better  if  he  did  not,  and  with  that  the  subject  was 
dropped. 

In  this  way,  and  little  by  little,  I  regained  my  strength,  and 
not  at  the  last  with  any  pleasure.  For  with  it  I  should  be 
parted  from  Constance,  whom  I  grew  every  day  more  to  love, 
not  feeling  then  any  more  than  in  after  years  that  such  a 
thing  was  beyond  me  and  not  likely  to  lead  to  anything  I  could 
wish.  For  those  who  are  mature  in  thought  and  pure  of  heart 
ever  thus  love,  years  being  as  naught  to  them.  She  was  mine 
and  I  was  hers,  and  alone  in  our  lives  we  loved  and  were  in 
everything  as  one. 


CHAPTER   XXXIII 

THE   RED  ROSE   OF   CUVIER   RIVER 

When  I  was  able  to  be  abroad  some  part  of  the  day,  Con- 
stance and  I  loitered  at  first  about  the  garden  beside  the 
house,  the  plants  of  which  were  beginning  to  turn  with  the 
early  frost.  In  the  park  across  the  way,  where  all  the  roads 
meet,  the  hickory  and  ash  were  already  bare  and  staring,  the 
limbs  of  the  elm  showing  black  and  cold  through  the  scant 
foliage  that  yet  clung  to  their  extended  branches.  The  oak 
and  willow  still  held  their  leaves,  but  discolored  and  of  bilious 
hue,  as  if  sick  unto  death.  In  pleasing  contrast  to  these,  and 
in  rebuke,  it  seemed,  the  maples  welcomed  the  frost  with  pink 
and  red  and  paling  yellow,  as  if  they  thought  the  coming 
winter  a  thing  to  look  forward  to  with  delight  and  not  with 
dread. 

The  first  day  we  ventured  into  the  street  we  ran  across 
Blott,  grooming  a  horse  near  the  stable  door. 

"Howdy  do,"  he  exclaimed,  taking  off  his  cap  on  seeing 
Constance;  "I'm  glad  to  see  you  out  an*  not  lookin'  so  pale. 
It's  a  fine  day  for  inv'lids,  miss,  an'  purty  for  washin'  an'  dryin' 
things,"  he  added,  looking  across  the  road  at  the  sheets  and 
pillow-cases  flapping  in  the  warm  air. 

"How  are  you,  Blott,  and  the  dapple-gray?"  I  cried, 
going  to  her.  For  it  was  Uncle  Job's  mare,  and  the  one  I  had 
ridden  to  Appletop  that  morning. 

"Hello,  Gilbert!  is  that  you?  Well,  I'd  never  know'd 
you,"  he  exclaimed.  "I'm  glad  to  see  you  out  agin,  though, 
for  'ceptin'  for  you  I'd  not  be  curryin'  horses  now." 

"Not  this  mare,  anyway,"  I  answered,  stroking  her  fine 
face  and  looking  into  her  mild  responsive  eyes. 
246 


The  Red  Rose  of  Cuvier  River  247 

"No;  an'  she's  a  good  one  if  I'm  a  judge,  an'  fit  to  ride 
for  one's  life." 

"So  is  every  horse,  Blott,"  I  answered,  rubbing  my  face 
against  hers.  "They'll  all  do  the  best  they  can." 

"All  horses  is  good,  Gilbert,  if  not  broken  by  fools  or  the 
like,"  Blott  answered,  striking  his  currycomb  against  a  post, 
and  making  the  dust  fly;  "an"  I  never  hired  an  old,  broken- 
down  livery  plug  in  my  life  that  I  didn't  want  to  buy  it  after- 
ward, if  'twas  gentle  an'  tried  to  please,  which  they  mostly 
does." 

"That's  so;  but  how  are  you  getting  on?  As  good  as  new 
and  better,  if  your  looks  show,"  I  answered,  remarking  his 
fine  color  and  clear  eyes. 

"Yes;  the  bullet  went  through  me  as  clean  as  a  whistle,  an' 
if  the  ashes  of  the  old  cabin  was  scraped  away  you'd  find  it 
there  sure.  Then  I'm  livin'  a  decent  kind  of  life,  too.  The 
malary's  a  thing  you  don't  want,  though,  Gilbert.  It's  like 
the  bots,  an'  if  you  ever  git  it  be  careful  of  the  medicine,  for 
it's  worse'n  the  disease.  It  makes  one  careless-like;  kindy 
as  if  you  was  coastin'  on  a  big  bob.  I  used  to  see  lots  of  signs 
as  I  shot  down  the  hill,  that  said  as  plain  as  words,  'Hell's  at 
the  bottom,  Blott ' ;  but  I  kept  on,  not  carin'.  When  I'd 
reached  the  bottom,  Burke's  shot  tipped  me  over,  an'  though 
I  rolled  within  a  foot  of  the  openin'  I  didn't  go  in,  an'  ever 
since  I've  bin  tryin'  to  crawl  back  agin  to  the  top.  It's  slow 
work,  though,  both  my  tendons  bein'  bowed  an'  my  wind  not 
much  to  speak  of.  I'm  not  such  a  fool  after  all,  though,  as  I 
look,"  he  went  on  in  his  droll  way.  "For  it's  a  wise  chicken 
that  knows  enough  to  stay  near  the  barn,  but  after  the  hawks 
git  most  of  their  feathers  they  learn  better'n  to  wander  too 
far." 

"Well,  the  hawks  haven't  picked  your  bones,"  I  answered, 
scanning  his  great  frame. 

"No;  an'  I  can't  think  how  it  all  happened,  for  I  wasn't 
wild  when  a  boy.  I  was  tied  up  too  tight,  I  guess.  You've 
got  to  leave  some  slack  in  a  boy's  galluses,  Gilbert,  if  you 


248  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

want  to  keep  the  buttons  on  his  pants.  Don't  forget  that  when 
you're  grown,  if  you  don't  want  to  raise  a  lot  of  wrecks." 

"Yes;  but  good  by.  Take  good  care  of  the  mare,"  I 
answered,  stroking  her  nose  as  we  walked  away. 

"You  bet  your  last  plunk,  an'  for  what  she's  done  for  me, 
if  nothin'  else." 

As  I  grew  stronger,  Constance  and  I  extended  our  walks 
into  the  town,  standing  by  to  watch  the  coming  and  going  of 
the  traders  and  farmers.  The  little  village  as  yet  made  no 
open  pretense  of  grandeur,  nor  hinted  at  the  hope  of  many  that 
it  would  one  day  become  a  city.  Such  things  were  talked 
about,  however,  quietly,  by  the  more  aspiring,  and  if  the 
authorities  still  permitted  the  edge  of  the  sidewalk  to  be  used 
as  a  rack  for  horses,  and  the  cows  to  wander  at  will,  it  was  in 
the  interest  of  trade  and  neighborly  accommodation,  and  for 
the  present  only.  For,  like  a  young  maiden  who  dreams  of 
taking  her  hair  out  of  braid,  some  there  were  in  the  town  who 
were  beginning  to  discuss  the  need  of  improvements  and 
things  that  cities  require  and  older  places  have,  led  on  by  wily 
politicians  and  expectant  contractors;  though  nothing  came  of 
it,  or  ever  would. 

After  a  while,  like  young  birds  gaining  strength,  we  wan- 
dered as  far  as  the  ferry,  a  mile  or  more  away.  Here  we  spent 
our  time  watching  the  river  and  gathering  the  crimson  leaves 
and  flowers  that  still  blossomed  along  its  borders.  These 
visits  were  made  much  of  by  Mrs.  Hayward,  the  young  wife  of 
the  ferryman,  who  both  of  us  came  to  know  and  love.  If  it 
happened  that  she  could  get  away  from  her  household  duties, 
she  would  often  go  with  us,  and  at  other  times,  if  it  was  con- 
venient, would  entertain  us  at  the  little  cabin  where  she  and 
Mr.  Hayward  lived.  In  this  manner  Constance  and  she  soon 
became  great  friends,  and  because  of  it  the  lady  in  time  took 
me  into  her  liking  as  well.  Later,  when  the  nuts  were  right  for 
gathering,  we  sometimes  extended  our  visits  a  great  way  into 
the  country.  Thus  it  came  about  one  day,  when  we  were  far 
from  Appletop,  that  a  storm  coming  on,  we  sought  shelter  in 


The  Red  Rose  of  Cuvier  River  249 

a  house  some  distance  from  the  road,  as  if  in  a  place  by  itself, 
so  secluded  were  its  surroundings.  The  mistress  made  us 
welcome,  and  her  husband  coming  in  while  we  sat,  Constance 
cried  out  at  seeing  him  that  it  was  Blake,  the  carpenter  who 
had  fixed  up  the  treasure-room  at  the  Dragon.  Like  most 
people  who  came  into  the  new  country,  the  Blakes  had  pre- 
empted a  piece  of  land  and,  building  a  house  thereon,  made  it 
their  home;  but  he,  being  a  carpenter  and  builder,  sought 
employment  where  he  could  find  it,  and  oftentimes  a  great 
way  off,  as  in  our  case. 

The  good  people  did  all  they  could  to  make  us  prolong  our 
stay,  and  this  we  were  only  too  glad  to  do,  because  of  their 
kindness  and  desire  to  be  hospitable.  Mr.  Blake  was  a  stout 
little  man,  slow  of  speech,  with  eyes  of  a  reddish  color,  and 
having  sharp  eyebrows  that  stuck  out  like  bayonets.  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Blake  had  a  way  when  they  talked,  which  pleased  us 
very  much,  of  resting  their  hands  on  each  other's  shoulders 
and  prefixing  what  they  said  to  each  other  by  some  endearing 
phrase,  as  people  sometimes  will  who  are  much  alone  or  greatly 
attached  to  each  other.  As  soon  as  she  learned  who  we  were, 
Mrs.  Blake,  without  further  waiting  or  any  pretense  of  for- 
mality, at  once  assumed  toward  us,  and  naturally,  the  air  of  a 
mother,  so  that  we  were  in  a  little  while  talking  and  laughing 
as  if  we  had  known  her  always.  When  it  came  time  to  leave, 
Mr.  Blake  took  hold  of  my  hand  and  held  it  as  if  meditating 
some  form  of  speech.  Then,  calling  to  his  wife  and  looking 
to  her  as  if  for  help,  he  said: 

"I  have  heard  all  about  your  life,  my  son,  and  if  you  would 
care  to  leave  Appletop  and  come  and  live  with  us,  you  having 
no  regular  home,  we  should  be  glad  to  have  you,  and  would 
make  it  pleasant  if  we  could,  and  treat  you  like  our  own"; 
saying  which,  and  unable  to  go  on,  he  put  my  hand  in  that  of 
his  wife's,  folding  his  arms  in  a  homely  way,  as  if  he  found 
them  a  great  bother  when  not  in  use. 

"Indeed,  we  should  be  glad  to  have  you  come  and  make 
your  home  with  us,  for  you  would  take  the  place  of  our  boy," 


250  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

Mrs.  Blake  responded,  tears  starting  in  her  eyes  at  the 
reference.  "Please  come,  as  Mr.  Blake  says,  and  we  will  try 
and  make  your  life  happier  than  it  has  been  since  you,  too, 
have  been  alone." 

This  offer,  so  full  of  love  and  gentle  kindness,  moved  me 
more  than  I  could  find  words  to  tell,  and  promising  that  if 
I  went  to  any  one  I  would  come  to  them,  we  drove  off,  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Blake  standing  with  their  hands  on  each  other's 
shoulders,  watching  until  the  forest  hid  us  from  view. 

Some  days  after  this  we  set  apart  an  afternoon  for  a  visit 
to  the  Singletons.  As  if  to  do  us  honor  they  gave  us  tea, 
and  besides  did  and  said  many  pleasant  things  to  show  their 
kindness;  but  most  of  all,  I  sat  watching  Miss  Betty,  as  if  I 
might  thus  in  some  way  come  to  know  how  she  regarded 
Uncle  Job.  On  our  way  home,  too,  this  formed  the  subject 
of  conversation,  but  without  our  being  the  wiser  for  anything 
we  had  seen  or  heard.  On  reaching  the  Dragon,  however,  all 
such  thoughts  were  driven  from  our  minds  by  seeing  Moth 
making  his  way  across  the  street  in  the  direction  of  the 
Dragon.  Hurrying  into  the  house,  he  followed  us  to  the  door, 
demanding  to  see  Mr.  Seymour,  but  the  latter  would  by  no 
means  go  out  nor  let  the  other  come  in.  While  Moth  stood 
thus  expostulating  with  the  servant,  Uncle  Job  came  up,  and 
seeing  him,  stopped  and  bowed  politely,  but  without  saying 
a  word. 

"I  am  sorry,  Mr.  Throckmorton,"  Moth  began,  without 
preface  of  any  kind,  "to  thwart  you  in  regard  to  your  nephew, 
your  intention  being  worthy,  no  doubt.  This  I  am  compelled 
to  do,  however,  and  I  come  now  with  the  decree  of  the  court, 
due  and  legal  summons  having  been  given,  to  claim  his  person, 
and  I  demand  that  you  give  him  up  peaceably  and  without  show 
of  resistance."  Saying  which,  he  took  a  document  from  his 
pocket  and  held  it  out  for  Uncle  Job  to  examine,  adding, 
"Here  is  my  authority,  sir!" 

Uncle  Job,  neither  taking  the  paper  nor  making  any 
motion  to  do  so,  answered  directly: 


The  Red  Rose  of  Cuvier  River  251 

"I  have  also  the  decree  of  our  court,  due  summons  having 
in  like  manner  been  given,  awarding  the  lad  to  my  care,  Mr. 
Moth,  and  so  I  shall  not  be  able  to  comply  with  your  request." 

At  this  Moth  started  back,  but  presently  regaining  himself, 
answered : 

"My  decree,  Mr.  Throckmorton,  will  be  found  to  antedate 
yours,  and  therefore  holds  priority." 

"I  think  not,"  Uncle  Job  replied,  shortly. 

"I  know  it  does,"  Moth  answered,  in  a  heat.  "I  went 
before  the  court  the  day  of  its  opening  after  the  summer 
vacation,  and  my  decree  is  as  of  that  date,  and  nothing  you 
have,  therefore,  can  antedate  it." 

"I  did  the  like  here,  Mr.  Moth,  and  so  the  order  I  hold 
must  bear  the  same  date  as  yours,"  and  Uncle  Job  took  the 
paper  from  his  pocket  and  held  it  for  the  other  to  examine. 
At  this  I  thought  Moth  would  have  toppled  over,  so  great  was 
his  surprise  and  rage.  "So  you  see  you  are  forestalled,  Mr. 
Moth,  and  Gilbert  being  here  our  judge  will,  of  course,  exer- 
cise his  prerogative;  and  now,  as  there  is  nothing  more  to  be 
said  about  the  matter,  I  will  bid  you  good  day";  and  Uncle 
Job,  bowing  politely,  turned  on  his  heel  and  walked  away. 

"The  judge  at  his  home  will  take  precedence  of  all  others," 
Moth  yelled  after  him;  "and  if  necessary  I  will  appeal  to  the 
higher  courts.  I'll  not  take  denial  and  will  have  the  child 
whether  or  no."  To  this  Uncle  Job  made  no  response,  and 
Moth,  after  a  while,  finding  no  attention  paid  to  his  threats, 
turned  and  went  the  way  he  came. 

When  he  was  gone  I  looked  at  Constance,  and  with  such 
dismay  in  my  face  that  she  cried  out: 

"He  can't  do  anything,  Gilbert,  I  am  sure  he  can't. 
Your  Uncle  Job  said  so,  and  I  would  believe  him  before  I 
would  that  mean  little  lawyer." 

To  this  I  made  no  response,  for  to  tell  the  truth,  since 
Moth  had  overcome  Fox  and  shown  such  courage  and  cun- 
ning, my  fear  of  him  had  increased  beyond  all  bounds. 
Indeed,  I  thought  him  capable  of  any  desperate  thing  that 


252  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

might  come  into  his  head;  and  so,  going  back  into  the  room  I 
sat  down,  at  a  loss  what  to  do  or  say. 

"You  haven't  anything  to  fear,  Gilbert,  indeed  you 
haven't,"  Constance  kept  on  repeating,  hovering  about  me 
like  a  gentle  dove,  and  as  if  dreading  some  foolish  resolve  I 
might  make. 

"You  don't  know  what  he  is  capable  of,  and  the  only  thing 
left  for  me  is  to  go  away.  I  have  made  Uncle  Job  enough 
trouble  already,  and  it's  no  use,  for  Moth  will  never  give  me 
any  peace." 

"You're  not  going  away,  Gilbert;  you  can't,  and  there  is 
no  need.  Besides,  where  would  you  go?"  she  persisted,  rest- 
ing her  face  against  mine. 

"I  don't  know,  but  I  am  going,  and  to-night.  I'm  tired 
of  being  chased  about  the  country  by  that  little  devil.  I  would 
like  to  kill  him!"  I  answered,  feeling  very  sore. 

"Oh,  don't  say  that,  Gilbert,  please  don't!"  she  answered, 
putting  her  arms  about  me  as  if  she  would  in  this  way  shield 
and  restrain  me. 

"I  didn't  mean  it,  Constance,  you  know;  but  Moth'll  not 
stop  at  anything  nor  wait  for  the  courts,  and  once  he  gets  me, 
there  will  be  no  help  for  it.  It  would  be  just  like  him  to  put 
me  in  jail — but  where  I  am  to  go  I  don't  know." 

"Don't  go  at  all,  Gilbert,  please  don't,  there's  no  need," 
she  pleaded. 

To  this  I  made  no  response,  and  for  a  time  we  sat  without 
speaking,  clasping  each  other's  hands.  At  last,  seeing  I  was 
determined,  she  looked  up  timidly  and  as  if  she  had  found 
a  way  out  of  our  trouble. 

"If  you  will  leave,  Gilbert,  why  not  go  to  the  Blakes? 
They  are  such  gentle  people,  too,  and  Moth  would  never  be 
able  to  find  you  there." 

"It's  the  very  thing,"  I  cried,  jumping  up,  "and  not  like 
going  away,  either,  for  I  shall  be  near  you  all  the  time;  you 
are  always  my  good  angel,  Constance,"  I  added,  kissing  the 
sweet  creature. 


The  Red  Rose  of  Cuvier  River  253 

"Then  you  will  go  there?" 

"Yes;  but  no  one  must  be  told,  so  that  if  Uncle  Job  is 
asked,  he  can  say  he  doesn't  know." 

"No  one  but  Blott,  for  he  must  go  with  you.  He  will  not 
betray  us,  I'm  sure,"  she  answered. 

On  Blott's  being  sent  for,  she  went  to  him,  and  taking  his 
great  hand  said,  in  a  hesitating,  timid  way,  "We  want  you 
to  do  something  for  us,  and  we  know  you  will  never  speak  of 
it  to  any  one." 

"A  tenpenny  nail  in  an  oak  plank,  miss,  can't  hold  it 
better'n  I  can  a  secret  if  it  concerns  you  or  Gilbert  there," 
he  answered,  with  more  resolution  than  was  usual  with  him. 

"It  isn't  much,  but  we  think  it  a  good  deal,"  she  answered, 
still  hesitating. 

"If  you  think  that,  it's  mount'ins  to  me,"  he  answered. 

"Thank  you;  and  it  is  good  of  you  to  say  so.  Gilbert  has 
to  go  away  to-night,  Blott,"  she  hurried  on,  "and  without  any 
one  knowing  it,  or  where  he  is,  and  I  want  you  to  go  with  him. ' ' 

"All  right,  miss,  I'll  do  anything  you  say;  but  what's  the 
matter,  if  there  ain't  no  harm  in  askin'?" 

"Moth's  here,"  I  answered,  "and  he  is  determined  to 
make  trouble,  and  so  I  am  going  away." 

"Is  that  woodtick  after  you  agin?  Well,  if  that's  all 
you're  goin'  for,  I  can  fix  him  quicker'n  a  butterfly  can  flap  his 
wings,"  Blott  responded,  straightening  up.  "See  that  fist? 
If  it  was  to  hit  him,  he  wouldn't  light  this  side  of  Rock  River's 
foamin'  waters.  I  hain't  had  a  scrap  since  the  cold  winter  of 
'32,  an'  I'm  just  dyin'  for  one." 

"No,  Blott;  it  wouldn't  help  me,  and  only  get  you  into 
trouble,"  I  answered. 

"Well,  just  as  you  say;  but  if  you'd  let  me  give  the  little 
burr  a  thrashin' — nothin*  to  hurt,  you  know — he'd  never 
bother  you  agin." 

"No,  that  wouldn't  do.  The  more  he  is  opposed,  the 
worse  he  is.  The  only  thing  for  me  to  do  is  to  go  away  until 
things  can  be  fixed  up  by  Uncle  Job." 


1 54  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"All  right,  if  you'll  have  it  that  way;  but  what  am  I 
to  do?" 

''Saddle  two  horses,  and  wait  for  Gilbert  outside  the  town, 
where  he  will  join  you  after  dark,"  Constance  interposed,  and 
as  if  ordering  a  squadron  of  cavalry. 

"How  far  are  we  goin'?" 

"Not  far,  and  you  can  be  back  by  midnight." 

"All  right,  miss;  I'll  wait  for  him  behind  the  grove  of 
mulberry-trees,  if  he  knows  where  they  is." 

"Yes,"  I  answered;  "and  take  the  mare,  if  she  is  in  the 
stable" ;  and  with  that  he  hurried  off  to  get  things  in  readiness 
for  our  departure. 

When  it  was  time  to  go,  Constance  and  I  grieved  as  if  we 
were  to  be  separated  forever,  and  thus  we  were  again  parted. 
Going  to  the  place  appointed,  I  found  Blott  as  we  had 
arranged,  and  mounting  my  horse  we  rode  away  in  the  shadows 
of  the  night,  glad  to  get  off  so  easily.  On  our  way  we  stayed 
for  supper  at  the  Eagle's  Nest,  a  rude  tavern  on  the  edge  of 
the  prairie,  where  Constance  and  I  had  often  stopped  in  our 
wanderings  about  the  country.  Blott  was  in  great  humor  at 
the  table,  and  as  there  were  no  other  guests  we  had  the 
place  to  ourselves. 

"I  suppose  you  know  how  this  tavern  got  its  name?"  he 
at  last  spoke  up,  transferring  the  skeleton  of  a  prairie  chicken 
to  a  second  plate,  and  helping  himself  to  a  quail  wrapped 
about  with  thin  slices  of  pork. 

"No;  how  did  it?"  I  answered,  without  looking  up. 

"Well,  on  the  hill  back  of  the  house  an  eagle  has  her  nest, 
or  did  six  years  ago  when  we  camped  here  for  a  week  durin* 
the  Black  Hawk  war;  an'  that's  how  it  was." 

"Tell  me  about  it — the  war,  I  mean,"  I  answered,  my 
curiosity  at  once  excited,  as  it  always  was  concerning  every- 
thing that  had  to  do  with  Black  Hawk. 

"I've  always  thought  the  beginnin'  of  that  trouble  differ- 
ent from  most  wars,"  he  answered,  helping  himself  to  a  couple 
of  slices  of  toast. 


The  Red  Rose  of  Cuvier  River  255 

"Tell  me  about  it;  you  have  time  while  we're  finishing  our 
supper." 

"Well,  once  upon  a  time,  a  great  while  ago,"  he  began, 
"there  was  a  beautiful  Injun  maiden  called  the  Red  Rose. 
She  was  the  belle  of  the  Sac  Nation,  an*  lived  in  the  Injun 
village  overlookin'  the  Rock  an'  the  Mississippi,  where  her 
people  had  been  nigh  on  a  hundred  years.  Her  eyes  were  like 
a  limpid  spring  in  the  dark  woods,  an'  all  the  young  warriors 
were  her  lovers,  for  there  was  none  like  her  for  modesty  an* 
attractive  ways.  She  was  as  purty  as  a  wild-flower,  an' 
a  great  dancer,  an'  fleet  of  foot  as  the  coyote,  an'  gentle  as  the 
cooin'  dove.  Her  father's  name  was  Standin'  Bear,  an' 
a  fierce  old  warrior  an'  hunter  he  was,  but  sometimes  given 
to  strong  drink  when  greatly  tempted.  Well,  at  that  time, 
along  about  1800,  the  early  French  settlers  livin'  on  Cuvier 
River  (which  is  French  for  Copper),  bein'  friv'lous  an'  fond 
of  dancin',  as  people  are  now,  gave  a  great  ball,  an'  white 
women  bein'  scarce,  the  Injuns  were  told  to  bring  their 
squaws.  So  to  please  her,  Standin'  Bear  took  Red  Rose  to 
the  party.  Whisky  was  plenty,  as  it  always  is  at  such  places, 
an'  while  Red  Rose  danced  an'  was  happy,  thinkin'  no  harm, 
Standin'  Bear  drunk  more'n  he  should,  an'  while  in  that  state 
a  white  man  insulted  his  daughter  in  a  way  no  one  could  over- 
look; but  when  Standin'  Bear  sought  to  punish  the  brute,  he 
was  knocked  down  an'  dragged  out  by  the  scalp-lock,  an'  given 
a  kick  besides.  This  no  white  man  nor  Injun  could  endure; 
but  Standin'  Bear,  not  havin'  any  redress,  waited  till  the  man 
come  out  after  the  ball  was  over,  when  he  fell  on  him  with 
a  fierce  cry  an'  killed  him.  You'll  say  it  was  murder,  but  it 
was  the  Injuns'  way,  an'  without  fuss  or  scarin'  of  women. 
A  white  man  would  have  gone  swaggerin'  an'  cussin'  into  the 
room  an'  shot  the  feller,  an'  everybody'd  said  it  served  him 
right.  That's  the  difference  between  the  two,  an'  one's  as  bad 
as  the  other.  After  he'd  killed  the  man,  Standin'  Bear  fled 
with  Red  Rose  to  their  village,  travelin'  day  an'  night  till  they 
were  safe." 


256  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"Then  what  happened?" 

"What  always  happens  when  an  Injun  kills  a  white  man," 
Blott  went  on,  pouring  himself  a  cup  of  coffee.  "Word  was 
sent  to  the  gov'nor  at  St.  Louis,  an*  soldiers  were  hurried  off 
to  demand  Standin'  Bear's  surrender.  This  bein'  done,  they 
took  him  to  St.  Louis,  where  he  was  to  be  hung,  but  on  the 
advice  of  Black  Hawk,  Quashquamme,  the  great  chief  of  the 
Sacs,  went  down  to  see  if  he  couldn't  save  Standin'  Bear,  who 
was  some  kin  to  him.  When  he  got  to  St.  Louis  he  found 
white  men  didn't  settle  differences  of  that  kind  by  acceptin' 
money  or  property  outright,  as  the  Injuns  do.  While  waitin' 
he  fell  in  with  a  man  named  Shoto,  an  old  ftir  trader,  who, 
knowin'  the  Sacs  to  be  reliable  Injuns,  volunteered  to  supply 
the  chief  an'  his  companions  with  what  they  wanted.  In  this 
way  he  got  the  Injun  in  debt  about  two  thousand  dollars,  for 
a  lot  of  truck  hardly  worthy  carryin'  off.  Then  Shoto,  to  get 
his  money,  proposed  that  the  Sacs  an'  Foxes  sell  their  land 
to  the  government,  an'  this  is  what  come  about  in  the  end. 
It  was  agreed  that  Standin'  Bear  should  be  freed,  an'  the 
Injuns  git  a  sum  of  money  every  year,  which,  of  course,  they 
didn't  git,  that  bein'  the  government's  way  of  treatin*  Injuns. 
Well,  at  the  appointed  time  the  prison  door  was  thrown  open 
an'  Standin'  Bear  walked  out.  Red  Rose  bein'  a  little  way 
apart  waitin'  for  him.  As  he  hurried  toward  her,  an'  she 
stood  with  her  arms  outstretched,  there  was  the  crack  of 
a  rifle,  an'  Standin'  Bear  dropped  dead  at  her  feet.  At  this 
she  uttered  a  piercin'  cry,  an'  fell  beside  him.  Her  compan- 
ions, runnin'  up,  carried  her  off,  thinkin'  she  was  dead;  an* 
while  she  come  to,  she  was  never  the  same  as  before,  but  sick 
of  mind  like,  an'  believin'  her  father  was  come,  she'd  hold 
out  her  arms,  sayin':  'You  didn't  believe  the  pale  faces,  but 
I  knew  they'd  keep  their  word,'  an'  this  the  poor  thing  would 
repeat  over  an*  over  a  thousand  times  a  day,  smilin*  an* 
holdin'  out  her  hands  plaintive-like.  When  she  got  some 
strength,  Standin'  Bear's  companions  took  his  body  an'  Red 
Rose  in  their  canoes  an'  carried  ^them  to  the  Injun  village, 


The  Red  Rose  of  Cuvier  River  257 

where,  as  I  said,  the  two  rivers,  the  tumblin'  Rock  an'  the 
Mississippi  join  their  waters;  an'  here  they  buried  the  old 
chief  with  the  dead  of  his  tribe.  So  you  see  the  whites  kept 
their  word  about  freein'  Standin'  Bear,  an'  broke  it,  too." 

"I  should  say  so,  and  with  a  vengeance!"  I  cried,  ashamed 
that  my  race  should  do  so  treacherous  a  thing.  "Then  what 
happened?" 

"Nothin",  for  he  was  only  an  Injun." 

"Did  that  bring  on  the  war?" 

"Yes,  through  the  debt  of  old  Shoto's  and  the  treaty 
follerin'  it. " 

"Why  did  Black  Hawk  allow  the  treaty  to  be  made?" 
I  asked. 

"He  was  away  huntin'  when  it  was  signed,  an'  didn't  know 
about  it.  That  was  always  the  way,  though.  When  the 
Injuns  was  to  be  tricked  it  was  done  when  he  was  off  on 
a  hunt,  for  he  never  was  fuddled  with  liquor,  an'  stood  up  for 
the  rights  of  his  people." 

"He  ought  not  to  have  gone  off  hunting,"  I  answered,, 
with  some  impatience. 

"That  was  their  way,  an'  carried  on  systematic-like,  an' 
not  as  we  do,  for  play,"  Blott  answered,  helping  himself  to- 
another  quail. 

"How  was  that?"  I  asked. 

"After  the  Injuns  had  buried  their  corn  and  punkins  an' 
other  truck,  they  went  off  to  the  west  on  their  fall  and  winter 
hunt,  takin'  five  or  six  hundred  horses  an'  two  or  three  hun- 
dred canoes." 

"That  was  an  army." 

"Yes;  an'  they  often  had  to  fight,  too,  with  their  enemies^ 
the  Sioux,  an'  other  Injuns.  They  was  gone  all  winter, 
returnin'  in  time  to  plant  their  corn,  bringin'  with  them  dried 
meat,  sellin'  their  furs  to  the  traders.  After  the  plantin'  was 
done  they  went  off  agin  in  July  on  a  great  buffalo-hunt  on  the 
Iowa  plains.  So  you  see  huntin'  with  them  wasn't  like  it  is 
with  us,  but  a  regular  business.  Try  some  of  this  ham,  Gil- 


258 


The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 


bert;  it's  sweeter'n  honey.  No!  Why,  you  haven't  any  more 
appetite  than  a  housefly!"  Blott  exclaimed,  helping  himself  to 
a  delicate  morsel.  "Well,  where  was  I?  Oh,  yes.  Much 
ill-feelin'  resulted  from  the  trick  sale  of  the  Injun  lands,  as 
you  may  imagin',  an'  the  whites  made  more  fuss  than  the 
others,  as  people  always  do  when  they've  done  anything 
they're  ashamed  of.  There  wasn't  nothin'  like  war,  though, 
till  one  day  in  1830,  twenty-six  years  after  the  ball,  an'  when 
Red  Rose  had  long  been  dead  an'  buried  beside  her  father  on 
the  banks  of  the  purlin'  Rock.  Then  Black  Hawk  bein'  off 
huntin'  agin,  the  whites  took  possession  of  the  Injun  village 
an'  burned  it.  They  didn't  need  the  ground  more'n  they  did 
the  moon,  for  there  was  enough  for  all,  and  more,  but  they 
was  crazy  to  git  rid  of  the  Injuns,  an'  wouldn't  wait  nor  live 
up  to  the  agreement  they'd  made.  Finally  Black  Hawk,  for 
the  sake  of  peace,  consented  to  move  his  tribe  over  into  Iowa; 
but  there  wasn't  enough  game  there,  it  bein'  the  Sioux  coun- 
try, an'  the  ground  bein'  unplowed  they  couldn't  raise  corn, 
so  before  plantin'  time  he  come  over  into  Illinois,  bringin'  his 
women  an'  children,  to  raise  a  crop  to  keep  his  people  from 
starvin'.  An'  it  was  this  comin'  that  brought  on  the  war."* 

Our  supper  being  over,  Blott  brought  his  story  of  the  Black 
Hawk  war  to  an  end,  and  the  horses  being  ready,  we  mounted 
without  loss  of  time,  and  hurried  forward  on  our  journey. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Blake  were  greatly  surprised  at  my  coming, 
as  you  may  imagine,  but  their  pleasure  was  only  the  more  on 
that  account,  they  said.  This  I  could  not  help  but  believe, 
for  both  of  them  did  all  they  could  to  make  me  feel  I  was 

*It  has  been  calculated  by  those  curious  in  such  matters  that  the  consideration  the 
Indians  received  under  the  treaty  referred  to  by  Blott  —  if  the  amount  agreed  upon  had 
really  been  paid,  which  it  was  not—  amounted  to  less  than  one  cent  for  each  two  hun- 
dred and  twenty-five  acres  of  land  relinquished.  In  this  connection  it  is  a  curious 
thing,  and  pathetic  even  in  Indian  annals,  that  in  the  case  of  the  great  chief  Black 
Hawk  persecution  should  not  have  ended  even  with  his  life.  For  shortly  after  his 
death  in  1838  —  at  the  age  of  seventy-one  years  —  his  grave  was  opened  by  a  vandal  white 
and  the  body  stolen,  and  with  it  his  medals,  sword,  jewelry,  and  other  decorations. 

the 


Black  Hawk's  sons,  discovering  the  crime,  recovered  the  body  and  had  it  reinterred, 
but  only  to  have  the  grave  again  opened,  and  the  body  stolen  a  second  time.  Thus  the 
great  man,  harassed  throughout  life,  failed  to  find  a  resting-place  even  in  death,  his 
body  being  moved  hither  and  thither,  his  bones  at  last  finding  a  place  of  lodgment—  to 
be  stared  at  by  the  gaping  crowd  —  in  the  Burlington  (Iowa)  Geographical  and  Histori- 
cal Society;  and  only,  in  the  end,  to  find  rest  in  oblivion  through  the  fortunate  happen- 
ing of  a  great  fire  in  1855.—  THE  AUTHOR. 


The  Red  Rose  of  Cuvier  River  259 

welcome  and  at  home.  Blott  did  not  stop,  but  hurried  away; 
and  as  it  was  late,  Mrs.  Blake  shortly  after  showed  me  to  the 
room  her  son  had  occupied,  saying  it  was  mine  now  and 
always  would  be.  Bidding  her  good  night,  I  threw  myself  on 
the  bed,  and  when  at  last  I  fell  asleep,  it  was  to  dream  of 
Standing  Bear  and  Red  Rose,  which  latter  appeared  some- 
times as  an  Indian  maiden,  but  more  often  as  my  own  true 
love,  Constance. 


CHAPTER   XXXIV 

GLIMPSE  OF  A  SUMMER  SEA 

When  I  awoke  the  next  morning  the  yellow  sunlight 
streamed  into  my  window,  as  if  to  be  first  to  make  known  the 
presence  of  a  friend.  Looking  out,  the  blue  sky,  contempla- 
tive and  mild,  smiled  upon  me,  and  as  if  some  other  presence 
dwelt  there  of  like  serenity,  but  which  no  vicissitude  of  season 
or  tempest  could  overcast.  This  welcome  that  the  heavens 
hold  out  to  country  people  is  not  imaginary,  but  real  and 
sensible  to  the  eye  and  heart,  and  its  comfort  and  companion- 
ship make  solitude  sweet  to  them,  oftentimes  to  the  exclusion 
of  other  and  more  practical  company.  To  all  such  it  does 
not  lessen  the  fellowship  of  the  clouds  that  they  are  but  store- 
houses of  wind  and  rain.  Their  movement  and  change  of 
shape  make  them  attractive  and  companionable,  though  their 
forms  take  flight  while  we  look.  So  at  night,  the  moon  and 
stars  tell  a  story  of  their  own,  each  having  its  office  of  friend- 
ship. However  far  off,  their  brightness  and  steadfast  ways 
are  not  mere  reflections  of  some  distant  object,  but  present 
companions,  looking  down  in  serenity,  brightening  when  we 
smile  and  steadfast  when  we  grieve,  awaiting  us  always  in 
their  places,  like  friends  to  be  found  when  needed.  To  city 
people,  who  see  such  things  but  imperfectly  from  the  angles 
of  buildings  and  deep-set  streets,  they  lack  these  romantic 
attributes,  but  to  him  who  dwells  in  the  solitude  of  the  coun- 
try they  are  as  I  say. 

From  the  first  hour,  Mr.  and   Mrs.    Blake  made  me  feel 

that  I  shared  everything  in  common  with  them,  and  this  in  so 

simple  a  manner  that  it  was  but  a  little  while  before  I  was  at 

home  and  as  if  I  had  known  them  always.     In  this  way  the 

260 


Glimpse  of  a  Summer  Sea  261 

deathly  sinking  of  the  heart  we  all  have  in  early  life  when  first 
separated  from  those  we  love,  I  found  less  hard  to  bear.  For 
however  much  the  young  may  stray,  or  however  desolate  their 
lives,  there  will  never  come  a  time  when  they  will  not  feel  this 
sickness  of  the  heart,  this  pang  of  parting  from  those  dear 
to  them,  as  if  the  breath  of  life  were  forever  leaving  their 
bodies. 

After  breakfast  the  morning  following  my  arrival  it  was 
determined  to  put  aside  all  other  things  and  give  over  the  day 
to  the  pleasurable  emotions  of  sight-seeing.  All  the  belong- 
ings of  the  Blakes  they  were  to  show  me,  not  grudgingly  and 
little  by  little,  as  if  of  no  account,  but  at  once  and  in  order 
as  become  the  properties  of  those  who  grow  old  in  content- 
ment and  honest  industry.  The  house  came  first  of  all,  and 
this  was  different,  and  in  most  things  better  than  others  round 
about — if  others  there  could  be  when  the  nearest  dwelling  was 
miles  away.  Mr.  Blake  being  a  carpenter  and  having  some 
skill  as  an  architect,  and  being,  moreover,  of  a  domestic 
nature,  had  been  at  pains  to  bring  from  a  distance  the  lumber 
and  other  needed  things  to  make  his  home  attractive.  As  if 
to  make  up  for  this  extravagance,  however,  the  structure  was 
correspondingly  small,  so  that  its  rooms  afforded  hardly  space 
in  which  to  move  about.  Among  other  things,  he  had  been 
to  some  trouble  to  make  the  house  secure,  and  this  because 
of  Mrs.  Blake's  being  much  alone,  so  that  in  some  respects  it 
was  a  veritable  fortress.  Like  the  pioneer  women  of  her  day, 
however,  she  had  no  thought  of  fear  any  more  than  men  have, 
and  lived  in  her  home,  more  often  alone  than  otherwise,  con- 
tented and  happy,  as  Dido  might  have  done  before  the  new 
lover  broke  in  upon  the  quiet  of  her  life. 

When  we  had  viewed  the  house  with  great  particularity, 
and  more  especially  its  treasures  in  the  way  of  ornamentation 
and  bits  of  furniture,  we  passed  on  to  the  garden.  Here  there 
were  many  fruit-trees,  all  healthful  of  growth  and  beginning 
to  show  signs  of  maturity.  About  these,  but  irregularly  and 
where  the  sun  could  reach  them,  currant  and  gooseberry 


262  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

bushes  added  to  the  beauty  of  the  place,  as  well  as  contributed 
something  to  the  comforts  of  the  table.  These  things  coming 
more  particularly  within  the  scope  of  Mrs.  Blake's  life,  she 
cultivated  them  with  this  double  purpose,  and  so  skillfully 
that  they  stood  out  in  the  autumn  air  as  if  in  pride  at  the  dual 
office  they  thus  happily  filled.  In  respect  of  such  things 
I  have  always  thought,  as  others  perhaps  have,  that  shrubs  are 
to  trees  what  children  are  to  men.  Pliant  and  beautiful,  we 
can  do  with  them  as  we  will.  If  cared  for,  they  respond  with 
bursting  foliage  and  brilliant  hue,  but  if  neglected  or  improp- 
erly placed,  their  gaunt  stems  and  shriveled  leaves  cry  out 
against  the  treatment  we  accord  them. 

Going  to  the  stable,  we  found  it  a  small  affair,  like  the 
house,  but  built  wholly  of  logs  and  brush.  Scattered  about 
were  other  diminutive  edifices  and  places  of  retreat  and 
refreshment  for  animals,  and  of  so  great  a  number  that  they 
looked  at  a  distance  like  a  Hottentot  village,  such  as  we  see 
in  early  books  of  travel.  About  these  structures,  and  in  the 
remote  and  secluded  corners  and  places  of  vantage,  chickens 
congregated,  singly  and  in  numbers,  and  amid  such  a  carnival 
of  cackling  and  desultory  talk  as  I  had  never  heard  before. 
Running  in  from  the  yards  and  edges  of  the  forest,  they 
crowded  about  Mrs.  Blake  with  such  noisy  exuberance  of 
spirit  that  it  was  impossible  to  hear  one's  voice,  much  less  to 
think.  In  her,  you  could  see,  they  recognized  a  benefactress 
and  friend  who  knew  and  treasured  them  for  all  and  more 
than  they  were  worth.  In  return,  it  was  as  if  they  were  every 
one  filled  with  expectancy  of  labor,  and  the  prospect  it  held 
out  to  their  mistress  of  pin  money  such  as  no  one  had  ever 
dreamed  of  before.  Overjoyed,  I  lost  no  time  in  making  up 
to  these  old  friends,  and  in  this  sought  out  such  offerings  of 
food  as  I  could  find  that  came  within  the  scope  of  their  appe- 
tites. For  they  were  dainty  things,  and  accustomed  to  much 
refinement  of  fare,  not  regarding  the  coarser  kinds  of  food 
with  any  relish  whatsoever,  so  long  as  the  grasses  and  forest 
yielded  a  profusion  of  delicate  morsels  in  the  way  of  succulent 


Glimpse  of  a  Summer  Sea  263 

bugs  and  relishable  insects  that  only  needed  a-  little  running 
and  craning  of  the  neck  to  secure. 

Mr.  Blake's  likings  tended  altogether  to  horses  and  cattle, 
and  of  the  former  he  owned  a  great  number,  though  only  the 
two  he  used  were  broken.  The  others,  all  fine  animals, 
I  volunteered  to  take  hold  of  and  fit  for  the  saddle  and  har- 
ness; and  this  offer  he  hailed  with  pleasure  when  I  told  him 
I  had  been  accustomed  to  such  things  at  Wild  Plum.  In  this 
way  he  would  be  able,  he  said,  to  market  the  animals,  whereas 
now  he  could  hardly  give  them  away,  men  being  too  busy  to 
properly  break  them.  The  appetites  of  these  idle  creatures, 
I  soon  discovered,  were  keen  beyond  all  measure  of  reason, 
as  if,  like  idle  men,  they  needed  more  than  those  who  worked 
or  otherwise  contributed  to  the  common  good.  Of  cows,  the 
Blakes  had  many  and  of  fine  form,  but  save  the  two  set  apart 
for  use,  all  ran  wild  with  their  calves,  only  the  more  sturdy 
surviving  the  neglect.  For  it  was  apparent  they  got  no- 
attention  whatever,  save  grudgingly  from  the  hired  man, 
except  as  Mrs.  Blake  or  her  husband  saw  their  needs,  and  this 
only  occasionally.  My  small  ideas  of  thrift  were  yet  enough 
for  me  to  see  how  little  was  being  done  to  make  the  farm 
productive.  For  Mr.  Blake's  earnings  as  a  carpenter,  it  was 
apparent,  were  used  to  make  up  his  losses  as  a  farmer,  and  so 
he  was  making  little  or  no  headway,  except  in  the  rise  of  his 
land,  which  at  best  could  not  be  much. 

However,  not  regarding  this  at  all,  he  sought  every  occa- 
sion to  add  to  his  unproductive  plant.  Thus,  the  third  day 
after  my  arrival  we  drove  across  the  country  to  make  inquiries 
in  regard  to  an  ass  of  gentle  disposition,  so  it  was  advertised, 
that  the  owner  desired  to  sell.  Delighted  with  the  animal, 
Mr.  Blake  bought  him  at  sight,  and  everything  being  arranged, 
we  tied  our  purchase  to  the  tailboard  of  the  wagon,  and 
mounting  to  our  seats,  set  out  for  home.  Looking  back  after 
we  had  gone  some  distance,  great  was  our  astonishment  to 
see  the  little  animal  braced  on  his  legs  and  plowing  the  soft 
road  with  his  sharp  hoofs,  refusing  to  lift  even  so  much  as. 


264  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

a  foot.  Seeing  how  things  were,  Mr.  Blake  got  down,  and 
going  to  the  animal,  sought  to  encourage  him  in  every  way; 
and  being  satisfied  at  last,  mounted  to  his  seat,  when  we 
started  forward  as  before.  Without  any  better  result,  how- 
ever; whereupon  Mr.  Blake  got  down  again  and  fondled  the 
animal  as  if  he  were  a  petted  child.  Then  motioning  me  to 
go  on,  he  followed,  endeavoring,  upon  further  show  of  stub- 
bornness, to  push  the  brute  forward,  but  without  any  kind  of 
success.  Upon  this  we  rested,  striving  meanwhile  to  coax 
the  animal  with  such  choice  bits  of  food  as  our  lunch-basket 
and  the  feed-box  afforded.  These  bribes  the  ass  devoured, 
and  acceptably  we  thought;  but  when  we  sought  to  start,  Mr. 
Blake  walking  alongside,  clucking  and  making  other  demon- 
strations of  encouragement  such  as  should  have  mollified  any 
reasonable  creature,  the  animal  refused  to  budge  a  foot.  This 
I  thought  highly  exasperating,  for  the  day  was  cloudy  and  raw 
and  such  as  quickly  chills  one  perched  high  up,  as  I  was,  and 
not  too  warmly  clad.  At  last,  every  device  being  without 
avail,  Mr.  Blake  motioned  me  to  go  ahead,  he  following  on 
behind,  much  disheartened,  it  was  apparent,  at  the  brute's 
behavior.  We  had,  however,  gone  but  a  little  way  when  the 
donkey,  striking  an  obstruction  and  refusing  to  bend  his  legs, 
toppled  over  and  fell  on  his  side;  and  as  he  made  no  effort  to 
rise,  I  brought  the  wagon  to  a  standstill,  though  reluctantly, 
I  must  confess.  After  some  effort  we  succeeded  in  getting 
him  to  his  feet,  but  going  on  a  few  yards,  he  fell  over  as 
before.  Upon  this,  Mr.  Blake  motioned  me  to  go  ahead, 
which  I  did  somewhat  briskly,  out  of  all  patience  with  the 
brute.  Soon  the  donkey's  skin  showing  evidence  of  wear, 
Mr.  Blake  tipped  him  over  on  the  other  side,  I  meantime 
driving  on  without  appearing  to  notice  what  he  was  doing. 
In  this  way  both  sides  of  the  brute  were  after  a  while  worn 
free  of  hair,  the  hide,  too,  in  many  places  showing  signs  of 
giving  way.  At  sight  of  this,  Mr.  Blake  called  to  me  to  halt, 
and  together  we  lifted  the  brute  to  his  feet,  wrapping  them 
about  with  straw  and  pieces  of  cloth.  In  this  way,  and  going 


Glimpse  of  a  Summer  Sea  265 

ahead  with  care,  so  as  to  avoid  obstructions  as  much  as  pos- 
sible, alternately  pulling  and  dragging  the  animal,  we  finally 
reached  home,  much  worn  in  body  and  spirit;  to  the  very 
last,  however,  be  it  said,  without  any  outbreak  of  temper  on 
Mr.  Blake's  part,  so  calm  and  unruffled  was  his  nature.  The 
ass,  not  a  bit  the  worse  for  his  hard  usage,  albeit  his  sides  were 
wholly  divested  of  skin,  raised  his  voice  in  protestation  once 
he  was  in  the  paddock,  as  if  Beelzebub  were  come  again. 
Nor  did  he  cease  his  complaining  with  the  going  down  of  the 
sun,  so  that  we  scarce  got  a  wink  of  sleep  all  that  night.  In 
a  week's  time,  however,  he  slept  in  the  warm  sun  beside  the 
barn  as  if  born  upon  the  place;  but  of  value  he  had  none 
whatever.  This  Mr.  Blake  did  not  much  regard;  he  had  the 
animal,  and  it  presented  a  fine  appearance  in  the  paddock, 
and  so  he  was  content.  Thus  this  obstinate  animal  lived  on  for 
many  years,  awakening  the  echoes  of  the  forest  with  his 
mighty  voice,  dying  finally  at  a  ripe  old  age,  much  to  his 
master's  regret. 

Such  things  as  these  may  seem  apart  and  not  of  much 
interest,  and  very  likely  that  is  true  enough;  but  to  me  they 
were  everything,  making  up  as  they  did  my  life  when  young, 
as  they  do,  in  fact,  the  lives  of  most  country-bred  youths. 
Looking  back  to  it  now,  from  under  a  fast-fading  sun,  its 
quiet  and  beauty,  peaceful  beyond  measure,  cause  a  sigh  of 
regret  as  at  some  far-off  vision  that  can  never  return,  nor 
anything  like  unto  it.  When  I  had  been  in  my  new  home 
some  weeks,  Mr.  Blake  fell  into  a  habit  of  gazing  upon  me  in 
a  fixed,  heavy  way  for  hours  at  a  time,  and  as  if  grieved  at 
something  beyond  expression.  Anxious  as  to  the  cause,  I  lost 
no  time  in  speaking  to  Mrs.  Blake  about  it,  and  what  she  said 
I  thought  remarkable;  nor  could  I  by  any  means  understand 
it,  or  any  part  of  it,  so  little  do  the  young  know  the  springs 
of  human  sympathy  or  liking.  For  it  seemed  that  at  the  time 
of  Constance's  and  my  first  visit  great  patches  of  freckles 
covered  my  face,  and  in  these  Mr.  Blake  saw  a  dear  resem- 
blance to  his  dead  son,  who,  it  appeared,  was  similarly 


266  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

marked.  Now,  with  return  of  strength,  the  freckles  one  by 
one  fading  out  of  my  face,  he  watched  their  going  with  sur- 
prise at  first  and  then  with  grief,  until  in  the  end,  all  being 
gone,  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  he  had  lost  his  son  anew. 
Encouraged  by  his  wife,  however,  he  after  a  while  overcame 
his  despondency,  treating  me  with  gentle  kindness,  as  before, 
but  never,  I  thought,  with  the  warmth  I  had  noticed  in  him 
at  first.  Mrs.  Blake,  happily,  having  no  such  cause  of  disap- 
pointment, grew  in  her  liking  for  me,  so  she  would  often  say, 
with  each  passing  day.  The  reason  of  this  was,  I  think,  that 
matronly  women,  such  as  she,  when  deprived  of  children,  ever 
thus  regard  with  increasing  interest  the  thing,  whatever  it 
may  be,  which  they  set  apart  to  fill  the  void  in  their  lives. 
Thus  she  regarded  me,  and  each  day  redoubled  her  efforts  to 
win  my  love,  and  in  this  was  so  completely  successful  that 
as  long  as  she  lived  I  never  ceased  to  regard  her  with  the 
tender  affection  her  great  heart  merited. 

One  fair  day  soon  after  my  coming,  Constance  rode  out 
to  make  us  a  visit,  emerging  from  the  shadows  of  the  trees 
like  an  angel  of  light,  which  indeed  she  was;  for  straightway 
the  place  seemed  as  if  enchanted.  Giving  her  scarce  a  minute 
to  greet  Mrs.  Blake,  I  hurried  her  away  to  show  her  the  farm, 
but  more  that  I  might  have  her  to  myself  during  the  short 
time  she  was  to  stay.  Forgetful  of  all  else  except  the  happi- 
ness of  being  together,  we  wandered  hand  in  hand  in  the  edge 
of  the  forest,  till  at  last,  tired  out,  we  sat  down  beneath  an 
oak  to  watch  the  sky  and  sleeping  clouds — except,  indeed, 
when  we  were  looking  into  each  other's  faces,  which  I  know 
was  the  case  most  of  the  time.  This  until  long  after  the  hour 
when  she  should  have  started  for  home.  Then,  hastening, 
I  brought  her  horse,  and  mounting  one  myself,  rode  beside 
her  to  the  door  of  the  Dragon,  which  we  reached  soon  after 
dark.  Returning  as  in  a  trance,  I  could  not  believe  it  night 
or  that  I  was  alone,  for  the  sky  was  ablaze  with  stars,  every 
one  of  which  seemed  to  reflect  back  her  image  or  to  be  the 
brighter  for  her  having  seen  it. 


Glimpse  of  a  Summer  Sea  267 

The  beauty  of  the  Blakes'  surroundings  was  such  as  one 
does  not  often  meet  with  at  this  time,  though  it  was  common 
enough  before  the  forests  that  lined  the  great  river  were  dis- 
turbed by  the  hand  of  man.  On  every  side  the  farm  was  bor- 
dered about  by  tangled  shrubbery  and  overhanging  trees,  and 
now,  it  being  autumn,  they  were  tinged  with  a  thousand 
shades  of  color,  not  one  remaining  steadfast,  but  shifting  with 
the  varying  light,  revealing  some  new  beauty  with  each  chang- 
ing reflection  of  the  sun.  On  one  side,  upon  a  ridge  of  sand, 
oaks  with  gnarled  a,nd  rugged  sides  lifted  their  giant  forms, 
and  about  the  other  borders  boxwood  and  ash,  mingled  with 
maple  and  elm,  grew  in  picturesque  confusion.  Near  by,  on 
the  very  edges  of  the  farm,  elders  and  a  thousand  vagrant 
bushes  struggled  to  outdo  each  other  in  growth  and  show  of 
beauty.  Farther  out,  in  the  stubble  of  the  field,  fat  weeds, 
green  as  in  midsummer,  uplifted  their  heads  defiantly,  as  if 
shouting  to  the  passer-by,  "See!  after  all,  nothing  conies  of 
thrift."  In  the  meadow,  and  in  homely  confusion,  wild  sun- 
flowers and  rosin-weeds  projected'their  stems  high  in  the  air, 
and  upon  these  meadowlarks  and  bobolinks  sat  and  sang  the 
day  through. 

To  one  side  of  the  farm,  and  along  an  old  and  abandoned 
highway,  grasses  and  flowers  spread  quite  across  the  sunken 
road,  and  on  both  its  sides  bushes  crowded  forward  in  confu- 
sion and  such  precipitancy  of  haste  that  in  many  places  one 
could  scarce  make  headway.  Above  this  scramble  of  green  the 
trees  spread  their  limbs,  and  the  sky  peering  down  between 
their  slender  branches  looked  like  a  glimpse  of  some  far-off 
summer  sea. 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

CONSPIRACY  IN  BLACK  HAWK'S  CABIN 

Among  other  things,  Mrs.  Blake  never  tired  of  speaking 
of  the  great  chief  Black  Hawk,  and  more  particularly  of  his 
wife,  whom  she  regarded  with  tender  love.  Black  Hawk  she 
thought  a  kingly  man,  and  it  was  vastly  to  his  honor,  she 
maintained,  woman-like  and  truly,  that  he  had  taken  to  him- 
self but  one  wife,  remaining  faithful  throughout  to  her  whom 
he  had  won  in  his  youth. 

"Were  you  greatly  harassed  by  the  war?"  I  asked  her  one 
day. 

"No,  for  at  the  commencement  Black  Hawk  sent  an 
Indian  runner  to  us  to  say  we  would  not  be  molested;  nor 
were  we." 

"How  did  he  happen  to  do  that?"  I  asked,  surprised. 

"We  had  been  neighbors;  but  it  was  quite  like  him,  any- 
way, though  he  was  much  embittered  at  the  last  toward  the 
whites  because  of  their  treachery  and  the  wrongs  of  his  peo- 
ple. Of  all  the  Indian  chiefs  I  ever  saw,"  she  went  on,  the 
color  mounting  to  her  face  at  the  remembrance,  "he  was  the 
most  commanding,  in  amiability  the  greatest,  in  argument 
the  most  persuasive,  and  in  anger  the  most  terrible.  I  some- 
times thought  him  vain,  because  on  occasions  of  ceremony, 
and  indeed  at  other  times,  it  was  his  habit  to  adorn  his  per- 
son, savage-like,  with  garments  of  the  most  brilliant  hue, 
encircling  his  head  with  feathers  of  glistening  black  and 
placing  above  them  a  plume  of  crimson  red.  Always,  too, 
I  thought,  he  was  inclined  to  make  much  of  his  hereditary 
rank  of  king,  but  never  in  an  offensive  way." 

"You  must  have  seen  a  good  deal  of  him  if  you  were 
268 


Conspiracy  in  Black  Hawk's  Cabin  269 

neighbors?"  I  asked,  interested,  as  I  always  was,  in  reference 
to  everything  that  concerned  him. 

"Yes,  but  more  of  his  wife  and  children  They  had 
a  cabin  near  here,  on  the  river-bank,  hid  away  in  the  woods, 
which  they  used  to  visit,  sometimes  occupying  the  place  for 
weeks  at  a  time.  It  was  not  generally  known,  though,  I  think; 
and  I  have  heard  they  came  back  there  after  they  had  been 
driven  from  the  country,  but  we  never  saw  them  if  they  did." 

"Maybe  they  are  there  now,"  I  answered,  my  blood  stirred 
at  the  thought  of  being  near  the  great  chief. 

"No,  I  hardly  think  so;  but  since  the  old  ferry  was  aban- 
doned, communication  has  been  cut  off,  so  that  they  might  be 
there  and  we  not  know  it." 

When  I  learned  of  the  close  proximity  of  Black  Hawk's 
former  home,  I  determined  to  pay  it  a  visit,  not  doubting  but 
what  I  could  find  it  from  Mrs.  Blake's  account.  This  chance 
happily  occurred  the  next  day  when  trying  a  horse;  for  being 
carried  near  the  river  before  I  could  bring  the  animal  under 
control,  I  determined  to  go  on,  and  doing  so,  soon  came  to 
the  edge  of  a  great  bluff,  from  whence  I  looked  down  on  the 
river  across  a  plain  that  intervened.  Hastening  on,  strangely 
moved,  I  knew  not  why,  yet  conscious  that  everything 
I  saw  was  familiar  to  me,  I  cried  aloud  in  surprise  and  terror 
on  reaching  the  shore  to  find  myself  on  the  spot  where  I  had 
emerged  from  the  water  that  fatal  day  when  we  were  all 
thrown  into  the  foaming  river  together.  This,  then,  was  the 
abandoned  ferry  about  which  I  had  so  often  heard,  and  how 
strange  that  I  should  have  lived  so  near  the  spot  and  not  have 
known  it.  Yet  not  strange,  for  at  what  point  we  had  crossed 
I  did  not  know,  only  that  some  one  had  called  it  Tip  Top, 
but  whether  seriously  or  in  play  I  did  not  know. 

Looking  out  on  the  broad  river  with  throbbing  heart  and 
tear-dimmed  eyes,  I  saw  again  my  father  and  mother,  as  on 
that  other  day,  struggling  in  the  icy  water;  but  only  for 
a  moment  and  as  in  a  vision.  Their  mishap,  alas!  like  their 
chance  of  life,  had  passed  forever.  For  that  which  the  water 


270  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

gave  up,  albeit  so  grudgingly,  the  earth    still  more  cruel,  now 
held,  and  would  forevermore. 

Grieving,  I  stood  for  a  long  time  lost  in  memories  of  the 
past,  and  in  this  mood  remembrance  of  the  Indian  woman 
who  had  befriended  us  came  back  to  me  with  pleasurable  sad- 
ness. With  it,  however,  and  like  a  flash  of  light  in  the  dark- 
ness of  a  cloudy  night,  the  knowledge,  not  before  dreamed 
of,  came  to  me  that  it  was  Black  Hawk,  and  none  other,  who 
had  rescued  my  father  and  mother  on  that  fatal  day;  and  his 
wife,  too,  the  gentle  doe  who  had  so  tenderly  nourished  us 
afterward.  The  raven  feathers  and  towering  plume  of  red! 
Why  had  I  not  known  him  before  in  all  that  had  been  said? 
This  it  was,  then,  unknown  to  me,  that  had  ever  made  me 
tenderly  responsive  to  all  that  concerned  him,  whether  in  war 
or  peace.  So  much  so  that  as  I  grew  in  years  he  had  come  to 
form  a  part  of  the  romance  of  my  life,  not  resembling  others 
of  his  kind,  but  apart  and  peculiar,  like  some  unknown  deity. 
His  gentle  wife,  the  bent  and  sorrowful  figure  sitting  desolate 
in  the  lonely  cabin!  Was  she  still  there?  Spurred  by  the 
thought,  I  turned,  and  urging  my  horse  to  his  utmost  speed, 
rode  headlong  down  the  stream,  as  on  that  other  day  now  so 
far  away.  Alas!  on  reaching  the  little  bay  I  found  only 
tangled  undergrowth,  too  dense  to  penetrate,  and  of  sign  of 
life  none  whatever.  Fastening  my  horse,  I  made  my  way  as 
best  I  could  to  the  little  cabin,  now  wholly  hidden  by  the  rank 
vegetation,  but  only  to  find  it  still  and  tenantless.  Reaching 
the  door,  trembling  with  the  sorrowful  recollections  that 
flooded  my  heart,  I  lifted  the  latch  and  entered.  It  was,  as 
I  had  thought,  abandoned;  and  yet  as  I  looked  about  in  .the 
dim  light  it  had  the  air  of  being  used,  but  by  vagrants,  it 
might  be,  or  outlaws.  To  this,  however,  I  did  not  give  a 
thought,  for  my  mind  was  full  of  the  past,  and  with  such  excess 
of  sorrow  that  scalding  tears  burned  my  cheeks  as  I  stood 
motionless  where  I  entered.  The  desolation  of  the  place  and 
its  stillness,  as  of  death,  filled  my  sorrowing  heart  to  over- 
flowing. Before  me,  as  in  the  days  that  had  passed,  I  saw  my 


Conspiracy  in  Black  Hawk's  Cabin  271 

father  and  mother,  and  kneeling  in  tender  care  of  her,  La 
Reine;  Black  Hawk,  too,  stern  and  threatening,  stood  at  my 
elbow!  and  then  again  on  the  broad  river,  with  face  upturned, 
in  regret  of  life  and  scorn  of  his  enemies!  and  still  again  bear- 
ing my  mother  tenderly  to  his  hut!  Alas!  it  was  but  a  vision, 
and  where  they  had  been  only  solitude  and  desolation  now 
reigned. 

Thus  I  stood  grieving,  until  my  tears  being  wasted,  I  set 
about  to  find,  if  I  might,  some  memento  that  I  could  take 
away  in  remembrance  of  the  dear  ones  who  were  gone.  Alas! 
even  the  worn  bow,  relic  of  other  days,  that  I  hoped  still  to 
find,  it  too  was  gone.  Searching  vainly  in  the  darkened 
room,  I  finally  turned  in  despondency  of  spirit  to  retrace  my 
steps;  but  while  my  hand  was  on  the  latch,  and  I  stood  looking 
back  in  vain  regret,  the  voices  of  men  reached  me  from  with- 
out. Alarmed,  and  remembering  the  cabin  in  Murderer's  Hol- 
low— for  such  things  one  does  not  easily  forget  when  young — 
I  stopped  and  listened.  As  I  did  so,  and  as  if  to  give  the 
thought  reality,  the  soft  voice  of  Burke  reached  me,  coming 
toward  the  door  behind  which  I  stood.  Frightened,  and  yet 
having  some  control  over  myself,  I  looked  about  for  a  place 
of  concealment,  and  doing  so,  caught  sight  of  the  darkened 
room  from  which  Black  Hawk  had  taken  the  oaken  paddle. 
Hastening  thither,  I  had  barely  reached  its  welcome  shade 
when  Burke  entered.  Finding  no  exit,  nor  indeed  having 
time  to  search  for  one,  I  crouched  down  in  an  angle  of  the 
little  room,  scarce  breathing  for  the  fear  that  laid  hold  of  me. 
Lying  quiet,  my  heart  beat  aloud  and  with  such  strokes  that 
Burke  must  surely  have  heard  had  he  listened;  but  unsus- 
pecting, he  did  not  cease  speaking  to  the  man  who  followed. 
At  first  I  did  not  much  regard  what  was  said,  expecting  each 
moment  to  be  discovered  and  dragged  to  the  light;  but  of 
search  they  seemed  not  to  think,  believing  the  cabin  tenant- 
less  as  before.  Thus  left  alone,  I  quickly  recovered  myself, 
so  that,  whether  I  would  or  no,  I  could  not  but  hear  what 
they  said. 


272  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"You  have  better  quarters  here  than  in  the  old  place," 
Burke's  companion  at  last  exclaimed,  "though  they  are  as 
gloomy  as  the  portals  of  the  infernal  regions!" 

"Yes,  yes;  and  such  places  are  the  best  for  my  trade. 
I  don't  spend  much  time  here,  though.  I've  learned  that  it's 
less  dangerous  in  the  forest,"  Burke  replied. 

"Yes,  curse  the  country!  There  is  no  safety  or  profit  in 
our  business  any  longer,  though  the  venture  we  have  in  hand 
ought  to  afford  us  something  and  to  spare." 

"Yes;  and  I  hope  you  have  come  ready  to  close  up  the 
business,"  Burke  answered.  "I  am  tired  of  delay — always 
delay;  and  you  will  admit  it  is  your  fault,  not  mine." 

"Neither  yours  nor  mine.  You  are  not  more  impatient 
to  see  the  end  of  it  than  I,  and  on  more  accounts  than  one 
in  my  case,"  the  other  answered;  "but  nothing  can  be  done 
till  the  time  is  ripe." 

"When  will  that  be?  When  will  that  be?"  Burke  asked, 
impatiently,  but  in  his  soft,  purring  way;  "and  what  is  the 
nature  of  the  business,  anyway?" 

"I  can't  tell  you;  nor  is  it  necessary  you  should  know  till 
the  time  comes.  It  is  all  arranged,  though,  as  far  as  can  be, 
and  I  am  only  waiting  the  opportunity.  That  depends  on 
others,  or  it  would  come  to-night;  but  it  can't  be  far  off,  so 
don't  lose  heart  or  complain. " 

"What  will  it  amount  to — the  money,  I  mean?"  Burke 
purred.  "It  ought  to  be  great  after  all  this  waiting  and  rid- 
ing back  and  forth  across  the  country." 

"It  will,  and  all  cash,  too — something  that  can't  be  traced 
or  cause  its  possessor  harm." 

"That  is  good;  but  how  are  we  to  get  hold  of  it,  and 
when?  That  is  what  I  want  to  know,"  Burke  answered,  and 
so  softly  I  could  hardly  hear  his  voice. 

"That  I  can't  explain  now,  as  I  have  told  you;  only  there 
will  be  no  great  risk,  and  it  will  be  clean  money,  as  I  say,  and 
in  packages." 

"In  packages?" 


Conspiracy  in  Black  Hawk's  Cabin  273 

"Yes;  one  of  paper  and  the  other  of  coin.  They  will  be 
sealed,*  too,  and  that  being  so  there  will  be  no  need  of  your 
opening  them  till  I  come." 

"Why  not,  why  not?"  Burke  seemed  to  whisper,  so  soft 
was  his  voice. 

"Oh,  for  no  particular  reason,  only  it  will  prevent  any 
dispute  between  us,  as  in  the  Hogge  case.  I  know  you  would 
divide  fairly,  but  keep  it  in  the  shape  it  is  in  and  you  will  not 
be  tempted  to  spend  any  part  of  it  for  drink,  and  so  get  both 
of  us  into  trouble." 

"Well,  it  will  only  be  a  few  hours,  anyway." 

"More  than  that,  for  I  can't  come  to  you  for  several  days — 
a  week  or  more,"  the  other  replied. 

"Why  not?  What  is  to  prevent?"  Burke  asked,  his  voice 
plainly  showing  surprise  and  irritation. 

"It  might  excite  suspicion,  for  I  may  be  watched.  Who 
can  tell  what  will  happen?  You  can  hide  the  money  mean- 
while without  risk,  or  keep  it  by  you,  as  you  think  best." 

"Yes,  yes;  but  just  when  will  you  come?"  Burke  answered. 
"I  may  not  see  you  again,  and  I  am  not  going  to  hang  around 
a  day  on  any  uncertainty  after  the  thing  is  done;  the  danger 
is  too  great." 

"There  will  be  no  risk  to  you  whatever.  I  might  come  in 
a  week,  but  ten  days  would  be  better,"  the  other  answered, 
slowly,  as  if  reflecting  on  the  matter. 

"Well,  I  can  see  no  point  to  what  you  say;  but  if  it  must 
be  so,  let  us  be  precise  about  it.  Name  the  hour." 

"Well,  then,  meet  me  here  at  nine  o'clock  on  the  tenth 
night  after  the  robbery.  At  nine  o'clock  at  night,  mind  you!" 
the  other  answered,  decisively,  after  some  moments'  hesitation. 

"All  right,  if  you  can't  come  sooner,"  Burke  answered,  as 
if  fixing  the  date  and  hour  in  his  mind;  "but  how  am  I  to 
know  the  time  and  place  to  do  the  thing?" 

"I  will  let  you  know  as  soon  as  it  is  determined.  It  may 
be  necessary  to  kill  a  man,  you  understand,  and  I  think  it 
would  be  to  your  liking  if  it  turned  out  that  way." 


274  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"Where  will  I  get  word  when  the  time  comes  to  act? 
Here?"  Burke  asked,  paying  no  attention  to  what  the  other 
said. 

"No,  at  the  Craig.  You  must  be  there  every  night  at 
eight  o'clock  until  you  hear  from  me ;  I  will  meet  you  if  I  can, 
or  if  that  is  impossible,  leave  a  line  in  the  hiding-place  telling 
you  just  what  you  are  to  do." 

"All  right,  but  hurry,  for  I  am  getting  tired  of  the  whole 
thing,"  Burke  purred. 

"I  will  not  delay  a  moment,  you  may  be  sure,"  the  other 
answered.  "And  now,  if  there  is  nothing  more  to  say,  I  must 
be  off,  for  I  have  a  long  way  to  ride." 

"All  right;  but  before  you  go  have  something  from  Black 
Hawk's  cupboard,"  and  with  the  words  Burke  came  toward 
the  closet  where  I  lay  concealed,  but  passing  the  opening, 
returned  presently  with  what  he  sought.  "Here  is  something 
that  will  shorten  your  ride.  I  always  keep  a  drop  where  I 
am  likely  to  be.  It  cheers  one  and  makes  fine  company," 
Burke  went  on,  as  if  liquor  was  the  one  solace  of  his  forlorn 
life. 

"Yes,  but  too  much  of  it  makes  men  tattle,  Burke;  don't 
forget  that,"  the  other  answered. 

"Yes,  yes;  but  did  any  one  ever  know  me  to  tattle?"  he 
responded. 

"Well,  here's  luck  to  you,"  the  other  answered 

"Here's  to  your  health,  and  hoping  you  will  fix  the  thing 
up  without  more  delay,"  Burke  responded,  drinking  in  his 
turn. 

"Thank  you ;  I'll  not  put  it  off  a  minute  longer  than  neces- 
sary. Now  will  you  come  with  me,  or  do  you  stay  here?" 

"No;  I  will  go  with  you.  I  have  no  great  fancy  for  this 
place.  It  might  turn  out  to  be  a  trap  like  the  other,"  Burke 
responded. 

"Well,  let  us  be  off,  then." 

"Yes,"  Burke  answered,  coming  toward  me,  but,  as 
before,  without  entering  the  closet  where  I  lay.  Returning 


Conspiracy  in  Black  Hawk's  Cabin  275 

presently,  the  two  left  the  room  without  saying  more,  closing 
the  door  after  them. 

For  a  time  I  lay  still,  lest  they  should  return,  but  nothing 
of  the  kind  happening,  I  crept  into  the  main  room  and  so  to 
the  door,  which  I  opened,  and  without  looking  to  the  right  or 
left,  plunged  into  the  dark  forest.  Running  some  distance, 
I  stopped  and  listened,  but  could  hear  nothing  save  the  wash 
of  the  waves  on  the  river-bank  and  the  soft  murmuring  of  the 
wind  in  the  tops  of  the  trees.  Circling  the  cabin,  I  found 
my  horse  as  I  had  left  him,  and  mounting  made  my  way 
through  the  forest  to  an  abandoned  piece  of  ground  back  of 
the  hut.  This  I  discovered  to  be  the  cornfield  Black  Hawk 
had  once  tilled,  as  the  mounds  plainly  showed.  Stopping, 
I  surveyed  it,  thinking  how  simple  of  occupation  had  been 
the  life  of  this,  the  greatest  among  the  savage  men  of  the 
earth;  and  to  this  day,  not  less  than  then,  I  cannot  think  of 
the  place  and  its  neglect  and  solitude  except  with  a  sigh  of 
wonder  and  regret.  Crossing  the  field,  I  made  my  way  home, 
arriving  there  ere  night  had  set  in  and  without  notice  having 
been  taken  of  my  absence.  For  this  I  was  glad,  being  deter- 
mined to  say  nothing  of  what  I  had  heard  or  seen.  I  knew 
not  who  was  to  be  robbed  nor  when,  and  nothing  therefore 
would  come  of  speaking,  save  the  discovery  of  my  hiding 
place.  When  I  went  to  the  house  some  time  afterward,  Mrs. 
Blake  on  seeing  me  cried  out  in  affright: 

"Are  you  ill,  Gilbert,  or  what  has  happened?  You  are 
pale  as  death!" 

"It's  nothing,  only  the  horse  was  new,  and  I  have  had 
a  hard  ride,"  I  answered,  putting  her  off;  "but  I'm  tired 
and  will  go  to  bed  without  waiting  for  supper,  if  you  don't 
care." 

"Very  well;  I  will  bring  you  something  later  when  you 
have  rested  a  little,"  she  answered,  with  motherly  love. 

"No,  don't  bother;  I'll  be  all  right  in  the  morning.  Sleep 
always  makes  me  well." 

"As  it  does  all  young    people,   bless  your   heart,"    she 


2j6  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

answered,    embracing  me  as  I  passed  her  on  the  way  to  my 
room. 

Bidding  her  good  night,  I  sought  my  bed,  and  lying  there 
strove  to  find  some  clew  to  the  robbery  that  was  being  planned, 
but  in  vain;  and  when  the  night  was  far  spent,  and  in  sheer 
weariness  of  body  and  mind,  I  fell  asleep,  not  to  wake  till 
noon  of  the  following  day. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

PHANTOMS  OF  THE  WOODS 

After  my  visit  to  Black  Hawk's  cabin,  things  went  on  as 
before,  except  that  I  no  longer  wandered  far  from  the  house, 
lest  in  some  way  I  should  run  across  the  outlaw  Burke.  Mr. 
Blake  being  away,  I  was  now  more  than  ever  taken  up  with 
the  care  of  things,  and  so,  being  occupied,  the  events  I  have 
related  little  by  little  faded  from  my  mind.  In  this  way  the 
autumn  closed,  and  winter  came  on  with  high  winds  that 
moaned  and  shrieked  in  the  trees  and  about  the  windows  of 
the  house,  as  if  seeking  in  vain  for  some  place  of  warmth  and 
comfort.  This  till  one  day,  when  we  had  heard  nothing  from 
the  outer  world  for  a  long  time,  Mr.  Blake  returned  from 
Appletop,  where  he  had  work  of  some  kind.  Going  about 
his  business,  he  had  scarce  a  word  to  say,  being  more 
reticent  than  ever  before,  I  thought,  if  that  could  be.  When, 
however,  I  would  have  asked  him  about  Uncle  Job,  he 
put  me  off  with  some  abruptness  of  manner,  and  doing  so, 
appeared  greatly  disturbed.  At  this,  and  upon  his  persist- 
ing, I  cried  out  in  alarm  and  as  a  peevish  child  might  have 
done: 

"Uncle  Job  is  dead!" 

"No,  no!  not  that,  my  son,"  he  answered,  his  eyes  waver- 
ing, as  men's  will  who  are  weak  or  seek  to  mislead  you. 

"He  is  ailing,  then?" 

"No,  he  is  well;  as  well  as  you  are,"  he  answered,  glanc- 
ing toward  his  wife,  as  if  asking  her  aid. 

"Then  what  is  the  matter?  I  know  you  are  keeping  some- 
thing from  me?"  I  persisted. 

"There  is  nothing  the  matter;  or  nothing  you  could  help 
277 


278  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

one  way  or  the  other,"  he  answered,  his  embarrassment  grow- 
ing greater. 

"Tell  me  what  it  is,  then?"  I  cried,  feeling  sure  he  was 
hiding  something  from  me. 

"There,  don't  get  excited,  my  son.  It's  nothing,  I'm 
sure,  if  the  truth  were  known,"  he  answered,  floundering 
about  in  his  speech. 

"Nothing!"  I  answered,  forgetting  myself  and  laying  hold 
of  his  arm.  "What  is  it,  then?" 

"It's  nothing  bad,  anyway,"  he  replied,  sweat  starting 
from  his  forehead;  "only  a  bit  queer,  maybe,  but  that's  all." 

"What  is  it  that's  queer?"  I  exclaimed,  ready  to  fly  at  his 
throat,  so  great  was  my  rage  at  his  continued  attempt  to 
evade  my  inquiry. 

"Strange,  I  had  better  have  said,"  he  answered,  closing 
his  mouth  as  if  nothing  would  induce  him  to  say  more. 

"What's  strange?"  I  persisted.  "Whatever  it  is,  I  am 
sure  Uncle  Job  would  want  me  to  know." 

"Don't  keep  him  in  suspense  longer,  dear,"  Mrs.  Blake 
here  interposed.  "It  can't  do  any  good." 

"Is  it  best?"  he  asked,  as  if  not  agreeing  with  her. 

"Yes;  for  it  can't  be  kept  from  him  forever,"  she 
answered. 

"Well,  then,  my  son,"  he  spoke  up  at  last,  with  sorrowful 
voice,  "your  Uncle  has  been  arrested,  but  none  of  us 
believes  he  has  done  anything  wrong,  and  know  that  it  will 
all  be  cleared  up  at  last." 

"Arrested!"  I  exclaimed,  scarce  able  to  speak;  "Uncle 
Job  arrested,  and  for  what?" 

"Oh,  the  charge  is  of  no  account.  It  is  not  true,  of 
course.  It  can't  be;  every  one  says  that!"  Mr.  Blake  went 
on,  the  effort  to  talk  and  to  lighten  the  force  of  what  he  was 
saying  being  altogether  beyond  him. 

"Tell  him,  my  dear;  it  will  do  no  good  now  to  keep  any- 
thing back,"  Mrs.  Blake  spoke  up  again,  putting  her  arm 
about  me  as  a  mother  might  a  stricken  child. 


Phantoms  of  the  Woods  279. 

"All  right;  you  know  best,  my  dear,  I  suppose.  Well, 
then,  my  son,  your  uncle  is  accused  of  taking — taking  money, 
but  no  one  believes  he  stole  it." 

"Uncle  Job  steal  money!"  I  cried,  too  much  overcome  to 
say  more. 

"Well,  the  money  was  left  with  him,  and  in  the  morning  it 
was  gone." 

"What  money?"  I  exclaimed,  "and  why  do  they  say  he 
took  it?" 

"Because  he  slept  in  the  office  that  night." 

"Oh,  but  some  one  else  might  have  taken  it.  Uncle  Job 
wouldn't!" 

"That  is  what  we  all  think,  but  who  did  take  it?  That  is 
the  question  that  puzzles  every  one,  for  nothing  in  the  room 
was  disturbed,  and  no  one  could  have  entered." 

"Who  had  him  arrested — Moth?"  I  asked,  my  thoughts 
reverting  to  him  as  the  source  of  all  our  troubles. 

"No;  the  man  the  money  belonged  to.  He  came  up  from 
Rock  Island,  but  brought  Moth  along  and  a  constable,  and 
after  they  had  been  in  Appletop  a  few  hours  they  accused 
your  Uncle  Job,  and  he  was  arrested." 

"I  knew  it  was  Moth;  but  where  is  Uncle  Job  now?" 

"In  jail." 

"In  jail!"  I  cried,  breaking  down. 

"His  friends  offered  to  bail  him  out,  but  he  refused,  say- 
ing he  was  innocent,  and  would  never  leave  the  place  till  it 
was  made  clear." 

"In  jail!  Poor  uncle!  And  what  are  they  doing  to  clear 
him?"  I  asked,  scarce  able  to  speak. 

"I  don't  know.  He  even  refused  to  have  a  lawyer,  say- 
ing there  was  no  need  of  one;  but  Mr.  Seymour  got  one  on 
his  own  account,  and  Rathe  says  he  will  hire  another." 

"Rathe?" 

"Yes;  he  is  dreadfully  worked  up  over  the  scandal." 

"When  did  it  all  happen?"  I  asked,  striving  in  vain  to 
control  myself. 


280  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"A  week  ago!" 

"A  week  ago,  and  nobody  has  told  me!  Oh,  Uncle  Job, 
you  haven't  a  friend  in  the  world,  and  will  surely  be  lost!" 
I  cried.  "Why  did  I  come  here,  anyway,  and  leave  you!  I  was 
a  coward  to  fear  Moth,  when  you  were  in  greater  danger 
than  I." 

"There!  don't  take  on  so,  my  dear.  I'm  sure  it  will  all 
come  out  right  in  the  end,"  Mrs.  Blake  interposed,  hopefully. 

"No;  and  I'm  going  to  him,  and  to-day — and  now," 
I  cried,  taking  up  my  hat. 

This  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Blake,  however,  would  not  permit,  say- 
ing it  was  foolish,  and  that  Moth  was  in  Appletop  and  would 
give  me  trouble,  while  I  could  do  nothing.  This  only  made 
me  the  more  determined,  for  I  thought  there  was  something 
back  that  had  not  been  disclosed,  but  of  what  nature  I  could 
form  no  idea.  Nor  did  it  matter,  for  nothing  could  be  worse 
than  Uncle  Job's  plight  and  the  crime  he  was  accused  of. 
That  he  had  done  any  wrong  I  did  not  for  a  moment  believe. 
He  who  was  incapable  of  even  a  bad  thought!  Thus  the  day 
wore  itself  out  amid  my  entreaties,  the  night  closing  in 
somber  and  gray,  with  a  light  fall  of  snow.  My  determina- 
tion in  nowise  changed,  I  excused  myself  when  supper  was 
over,  and  going  to  my  room,  slipped  on  a  heavy  jacket,  and 
opening  the  window  jumped  to  the  ground.  Hastening, 
I  reached  the  old  abandoned  road,  sure  my  absence  would 
not  be  discovered  until  morning;  but  in  any  event,  I  would 
not  return,  for  they  had  no  claim  on  me,  and  as  for  Moth, 
I  no  longer  cared  for  him,  so  great  was  my  distress  over 
Uncle  Job's  unhappy  plight. 

The  storm  in  which  I  now  found  myself  was  mild  to 
a  degree,  and  such  as  country  people  like  to  face.  Coming 
on  lightly  from  the  south,  with  scarce  any  wind,  the  snow  did 
'not  fly  here  and  there  as  we  sometimes  see  it,  but  came  in 
great  wavering  flakes,  each  lying  where  it  fell,  and  softly,  as 
if  the  particles  followed  some  order  of  things  laid  down  from 
the  beginning,  so  deft  were  they  and  free  from  bustle  or  any 


Phantoms  of  the  Woods  281 

show  of  activity.  Walking  and  partly  running,  the  soft  flakes 
falling  on  my  face  cooled  my  blood  and  stimulated  my 
strength,  so  that  I  looked  forward  to  my  journey  with  some- 
thing akin  to  pleasure.  A  moon  half  full  lessened  the  somber 
gray  of  the  sky,  bringing  out  in  glad  relief  the  myriad  forms 
built  up  by  the  snow  on  either  side  of  the  half-hidden  path. 
The  stillness  of  the  night  and  the  seclusion  of  the  forest 
soothed  and  rested  my  mind,  worn  with  the  events  of  the  day, 
and  in  that  mood  I  hurried  on,  refreshed  and  comforted  by  the 
contrast.  All  my  life  I  had  been  thus  abroad,  and  the  break- 
ing of  a  twig  or  creaking  of  a  limb  under  the  piled-up  snow 
did  not  startle  me  as  it  would  some,  but  came  like  the  wel- 
come of  a  friend.  In  this  way  I  ran  on,  elated,  sometimes 
singing  lightly,  but  observing  all  that  came  within  my  view, 
and  more  particularly  the  curious  forms  built  up  by  the  fast- 
falling  shower.  Of  these,  some  appeared  to  welcome  the 
storm,  while  others  stood  aloof  in  gloomy  reproof.  Thus  the 
staring,  upright  limbs  of  the  maple  would  have  none  of  it,  but 
spurned  the  gentle  drops  as  a  woman  might  a  soft  caress, 
neither  seeking  nor  accepting  grace  of  any  kind.  The  hickory 
and  wild  crab,  too,  looked  black  and  sour  in  the  twilight,  as 
if  viewing  what  was  going  on  with  no  kindly  spirit.  Drooping 
and  in  loving  embrace,  in  reproof  of  the  others,  the  elms 
caught  up  great  armfuls  of  the  falling  flakes  and  held  them 
tenderly,  as  a  mother  might  an  ailing  child.  The  oaks,  too, 
like  sturdy,  brown-headed  men — for  so  their  clinging  leaves 
made  them  appear  in  the  uncertain  light — held  their  burden 
as  if  in  some  way  the  foliage  of  other  months  would  the 
sooner  return  to  bless  them  because  of  it.  Underneath  and 
diminutive,  like  waiting  children,  the  elders  stood  waist-deep, 
canopies  of  snow  forming  above  them  like  umbrellas  uplifted 
against  the  storm.  Other  and  lesser  shrubs  crouched  down, 
or  bending  forward  had  the  look  of  wearing  collars  turned  up 
about  their  ears,  so  sturdy  did  they  appear.  Still  smaller 
plants,  growing  on  the  margin  of  the  path,  no  bigger  than 
your  hand,  stood  up  for  a  while  like  mice  or  foxes  perched  on 


282  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

end,  but  only  to  sink  down  one  by  one  and  disappear,  as  the 
snow  piled  higher  and  higher  about  them. 

For  a  long  time  my  journey,  thus  diverted,  was  such  as  we 
think  of  afterward  with  pleasurable  emotion;  but  by  and  by, 
the,  wind  veering  suddenly  to  the  north  and  rising,  the  par- 
ticles of  snow,  before  so  soft  and  comforting,  came  cold  and 
cutting  like  crystals  of  ice.  This  change,  with  the  depth  of 
the  snow,  hindered  my  progress,  and  after  a  while  produced 
something  like  despondency  in  my  mind,  so  surely  is  the  trav- 
eler affected  by  what  occurs  about  him  that  he  should  foresee 
but  cannot  in  any  way  alter.  Going  on  resolutely,  and  think- 
ing as  yet  but  lightly  of  the  change,  the  rising  wind  and  har- 
dening snow  soon  made  each  step  a  burden.  The  flakes,  too, 
before  so  mute,  now  whirled  and  eddied  about  my  path,  blind- 
ing my  eyes  and  blocking  my  way  with  great  uplifted  banks, 
in  which,  before  I  could  suspect  their  presence,  I  found  myself 
struggling  up  to  my  waist.  Thus  impeded  and  my  strength 
wasted,  I  went  forward  as  in  a  mire,  my  limbs  and  body  no 
longer  full  of  glow  and  vigor,  but  benumbed  with  the  cold, 
which  each  moment  grew  more  intense.  Struggling  to  make 
headway,  in  a  little  while  I  began  to  lie  longer  when  I  fell, 
comforted  by  my  ease,  and  lifting  myself  with  reluctance  from 
the  soft  embrace.  Wearied  and  chilled,  I  yet  feared  to  rest, 
lest  sleep  should  overtake  me,  and  sleeping,  I  should  awake 
no  more.  Startled  at  the  thought,  I  would  get  to  my  feet, 
but  with  wavering  steps  and  slow,  like  a  drunken  man  or  one 
enfeebled  by  age  or  sickness.  Finally,  despite  all  my  efforts, 
my  strength  being  gone,  I  could  no  longer  rise.  Looking 
forward  with  a  despairing  cry,  a  gray  wolf,  gaunt  with  hunger, 
stood  watching  me  amid  the  whirling  snow,  scarce  a  yard's 
length  from  where  I  lay.  Behind  him  there  was  another,  lean 
like  the  first,  and  with  eyes  of  fire.  Roused  by  the  sight, 
I  stood  upright.  If  these  were  all  it  did  not  matter,  but  if 
a  pack,  then  indeed  I  was  lost.  Waiting,  no  more  appeared; 
but  stirred  into  life  I  uttered  a  feeble  cry,  striking  in  dull 
rage  at  the  brute  nearest  me.  At  this  it  moved  aside,  but 


Phantoms  of  the  Woods  283 

only  a  little  way,  and  turning,  faced  me  as  before,  and  this 
expectantly,  as  if  awaiting  some  event  that  could  not  now  be 
long  delayed.  Alarmed,  and  yet  attaching  little  importance 
to  the  presence  of  the  brutes,  I  dragged  my  steps  forward, 
but  soon  to  find  my  strength  spent  and  my  spirits  broken. 
Resting,  the  chill  and  roar  of  the  wind  as  it  plowed  through 
the  naked  trees  filled  me  with  sadness  and  indescribable 
languor,  in  which  the  longing  to  sleep  overcame  all  other 
thoughts.  Despairing,  I  looked  about  for  a  place  where 
I  might  lie  down  and  yet  in  some  measure  be  protected  from 
the  fierce  cold  and  whirling  snow.  Some  place,  indeed,  less 
bleak,  with  the  appearance  of  warmth,  if  nothing  more.  So 
much  indeed  does  the  semblace  of  life  lure  us  even  in  death; 
for  of  desire  to  live  I  now  had  none,  and  like  a  hunted  animal, 
sought  only  a  place  in  which  to  lie  down  and  die. 

In  this  mood,  and  looking  forward,  a  cluster  of  oaks 
caught  my  eye,  their  brown  leaves  seeming  to  offer  shelter 
and  warmth  from  the  fierce  storm  and  bititlg  cold.  Making 
my  way  slowly  toward  them,  the  wolves  kept  pace  on  either 
side,  but  not  obtrusively,  as  if  the  end  could  now  be  plainly 
seen.  Reaching  the  haven,  and  looking  about  despairingly, 
as  one  takes  leave  of  the  world,  I  found  myself  on  the  outer 
rim  of  the  great  forest.  Gazing  with  hungry  eyes  toward  the 
open  country,  the  faint  twinkle  of  a  lighted  candle  after 
a  while  caught  my  eye  across  the  intervening  space,  but 
dimly,  and  as  one  sees  a  star  in  the  far-off  heavens.  Looking 
long  and  earnestly,  I  at  last  discerned  the  outlines  of  the 
Eagle's  Nest,  standing  black  and  chill  in  the  wide  expanse. 
At  this  I  gave  a  cry  of  joy,  and  hearing  it,  the  wolves  too 
gave  voice,  but  dolefully,  as  if  the  proximity  of  men  filled 
them  with  dire  dismay.  Benumbed  with  cold  and  the  clinging 
snow,  but  cheered  by  what  I  saw,  I  made  my  way  from  beneath 
the  friendly  trees  to  the  open  plain.  Here  the  wind,  meeting 
no  obstruction,  rushed  on  more  fiercely  than  before;  but 
pressing  toward  the  light,  which  each  moment  shone  more 
clear  and  warm,  I  at  last  reached  the  door,  and  lifting  the 


284  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

latch,  plunged  forward  into  the  room,  carrying  the  snow  that 
filled  the  entrance  with  me.  Going  down,  I  made  out  the 
sorrowful  figure  of  Fox  seated  before  the  open  hearth,  his 
chin  pitched  forward  in  his  hand,  as  if  conjuring  a  doleful 
sermon  of  some  sort.  Calling  his  name  as  I  fell,  the  light 
faded  from  my  sight,  and  I  knew  no  more. 


CHAPTER   XXXVII 

THE  PRODIGAL 

When  I  awoke  from  my  stupor,  I  lay  wrapped  in  blankets 
before  a  blazing  fire,  and  on  either  side  of  me  Fox  and  the 
landlord  knelt,  striving  to  infuse  some  warmth  into  my  body 
and  stiffened  limbs.  Next  the  fire  their  faces  glistened  as  if 
aflame,  but  on  the  other  side  the  shadows  gave  them  a  strange 
and  sinister  look,  so  that  at  first  I  did  not  know  who  they 
were.  Soon  recognizing  them,  I  nevertheless  lay  still,  having 
no  desire  to  stir,  until  Fox,  seeing  me  look  about,  shouted  at 
the  top  of  his  voice: 

"Hurrah,  he's  coming  round!" 

At  this  I  sighed  and  turned  away  my  face  in  shame  that 
I  should  forever  show  such  weakness  when  others  were  brave 
and  strong.  Bringing  some  kind  of  liquor,  he  forced  it  down 
my  throat,  exclaiming: 

"Cheer  up,  my  lad;  you  will  be  all  right  in  a  minute.  It's 
only  a  chill,  and  chills  are  nothing  to  the  young." 

"No,  but  I'm  no  good." 

"Yes,  you  are  a  poor  one,  I  know;  but  keep  on  trying,  and 
maybe  you  will  amount  to  something  after  a  while.  You  will 
never  have  any  sense,  though,  any  one  can  see  with  half  an 
eye,"  he  added,  working  over  my  legs. 

"Why  do  you  say  that?"  I  asked,  sitting  up. 

"Because  young  birds  like  you  don't  fly  above  the  trees 
after  dark — they  keep  under  cover;  and  if  you  had  any  sense 
you  wouldn't  wander  about  the  country  the  way  you  do  at 
night." 

"Yes,"  I  answered;  "but  birds  will  do  anything  when  the 
hawks  are  about." 

285 


286  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"Yes;  but  there  are  no  hawks  after  you." 

"No;  but  Uncle  Job." 

"Uncle  Job!     Why,  what  has  happened  to  him?" 

"He's  in  jail  in  Appletop. " 

"Is  that  where  you  were  going?" 

"Yes." 

"Why  now,  and  on  such  a  night?" 

"I  didn't  know  before." 

"Oh,  you  innocent!     What  can  you  do  to  help  him?" 

"I  don't  know." 

"That  is  what  I  thought.  But  come,  you  are  tired  and 
sore,  and  must  go  to  bed.  Sleep  will  make  you  as  good  as 
new." 

"No,  I'm  going  on  to-night ;  I'm  not  sleepy  nor  tired  now. " 

"You  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind,  you  vagrant!  You 
would  perish  with  the  cold.  Wait,  and  in  the  morning  I'll 
see  that  you  are  in  Appletop  by  sunrise.  But  come,  if  you're 
not  sleepy,  tell  me  about  your  Uncle  Job's  trouble.  It's 
early,  and  I'm  in  no  hurry  to  go  to  bed." 

This  I  at  once  proceeded  to  do,  glad,  indeed,  to  have  the 
chance.  When  I  was  through,  he  stared  at  me,  saying  he 
could  by  no  means  understand  it,  if  Uncle  Job  was  innocent, 
as  I  thought.  Thus  we  talked  for  a  long  time,  and  when 
I  could  no  longer  find  excuse  for  speaking  of  Uncle  Job's 
troubles,  Fox  spoke  of  our  former  meeting,  questioning  me 
about  my  adventure  in  Murderer's  Hollow,  and  more  particu- 
larly the  conspiracy  to  kill  Uncle  Job,  of  which  he  now  heard 
for  the  first  time. 

"It  was  just  like  Burke,"  he*  spoke  up  when  I  was  through. 
"A  more  desperate  villain  never  lived,  and  he  would  think 
no  more  of  murdering  a  man  than  he  would  of  killing  a  crow." 

This  reference  to  Burke  recalled  the  crime  I  had  heard 
planned  in  Black  Hawk's  cabin,  and  there  being  no  longer 
any  reason  for  keeping  it  to  myself,  I  told  Fox  about  it,  omit- 
ting nothing,  so  great  was  my  relief  at  being  able  to  share  the 
burden  with  another.  When  I  had  finished,  he  mused  over  it 


The  Prodigal  287 

for  a  long  time,  making  me  repeat  what  I  had  said  several 
times.  Above  all  he  was  most  interested  in  Burke's  compan- 
ion, but  of  him  I  could  tell  nothing,  not  having  seen  his  face. 
Afterward,  when  I  again  referred  to  the  object  of  my  journey, 
he  said,  cheerfully,  and  as  if  to  encourage  me,  that  Uncle  Job 
appeared  to  have  escaped  one  danger  only  to  get  into  another, 
in  which  he  hoped  I  might  in  some  way  be' able  to  serve  him 
again.  To  this  I  agreed,  but  in  what  manner  I  could  not  by 
any  means  see. 

When  the  night  was  far  gone  we  were  shown  to  our  beds, 
but  before  I  had  fairly  closed  my  eyes  Fox  had  hold  of  my 
shoulder,  saying  it  was  time  we  were  off.  This  I  could  by  no 
means  believe,  as  it  was  still  dark  and  I  dead  with  sleep. 
Dressing  myself  without  remark,  we  descended  to  the  main 
room,  where  the  landlord  awaited  us  with  a  pot  of  coffee. 
Drinking  this,  Fox  mounted  his  horse,  and  lifting  me  up 
behind  him,  we  set  out.  The  storm  had  by  this  time  abated, 
but  our  progress  was  slow  because  of  the  snow  which  lay 
heaped  across  the  road  in  many  places.  Fox's  horse  being 
strong  and  resolute,  however,  we  reached  the  outskirts  of 
Appletop  just  as  the  day  was  breaking.  Here  Fox  stopped, 
saying: 

"I  arri  sorry  I  can't  go  on  with  you  to  the  Dragon,  Gilbert, 
but  it  wouldn't  be  wise.  Not  because  of  anything  I've  done 
since  I  saw  you,  but  on  account  of  the  Moth  matter,  which 
you  know  about." 

"Then  you've  quit  your  old  ways?"  I  asked,  slipping  to 
the  ground. 

"Yes,  if  they  were  my  ways;  but  I  have  never  harmed 
anybody  greatly,  and  this  I  want  you  to  believe." 

"I  know  it,  and  you  needn't  have  told  me;  but  is  there 
any  danger  now?" 

"Yes;  Moth  has  posted  me  far  and  near  and  with  a  reward 
to  sweeten  it,  so  that  to  show  myself  would  be  to  invite  arrest. " 

"What  have  you  been  doing  all  this  time?"  I  asked,  curi- 
ous as  to  his  mode  of  life. 


288  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"Most  anything;  but  just  now  I  am  caring  for  a  drove  of 
hogs  belonging  to  a  buyer  near  the  Eagle's  Nest.  I'm 
a  swineherd,  you  see.  A  prodigal  like  him  of  old,  only  there 
is  no  fatted  calf  for  me,  nor  ever  will  be,"  he  concluded,  half 
sadly,  half  in  play. 

"Your  work's  not  so  bad,"  I  answered,  remembering  the 
great  number  of  good  men  my  father  employed  in  this  way. 
"Doesn't  the  man  pay  you?" 

"Yes,  of  course." 

"Then  you  can  buy  and  eat  your  own  calf;  that's  better 
than  looking  to  any  one?"  I  answered,  to  put  a  better  face 
on  it. 

"Oh,  I  live  on  veal ;  but  it's  the  overlooking  of  what's  past 
that  I  mean." 

"I  know,  but  that  will  come  in  time,  I'm  sure,"  I  answered. 

"I  hope  so.  Anyway,  I  am  going  to  keep  on  in  the  narrow 
path  here  till  something  turns  up  elsewhere  that  will  not  bring 
me  under  Moth's  eye." 

"I  wish  Moth  were  hanged,  the  scamp!"  I  cried;  "he  has 
caused  enough  trouble." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  Fox  answered.  "He  sees  things  as 
he  sees  them.  But  now  about  your  Uncle  Job's  affair,  for 
abusing  Moth  is  not  going  to  get  him  out  of  jail." 

"No,  but  you  will,"  I  answered,  confidently. 

"I  don't  know.  I  will  do  what  I  can;  but  if  you  want  me 
to  be  of  help,  go  on  to  the  Dragon  and  find  out  more  about 
the  affair.  Everything,  mind,  not  overlooking  a  word  or  look. 
For  it  is  always  some  trifle  nobody  regards  that  affords  the 
clew  to  every  crime,  the  constables  say." 

"I  will,"  I  cried,  starting  off. 

"Hold  on  there!  When  you  have  found  out  all  you  can, 
I  want  you  to  come  and  tell  me." 

"Yes;  where — at  the  Eagle's  Nest?" 

"No,  that  is  too  far  for  you  to  go;  Hay  ward's  Ferry  will 
be  better." 

"When  shall  I  come?"  I  asked. 


The  Prodigal  289- 

"To-night,  and  as  soon  after  dark  as  you  can." 

"Where,  Mr.  Hayward's  house?" 

"No;  in  the  grove  below  the  landing.  Now  be  off.  The 
sun's  coming  up,  and  people  are  stirring  about  like  flies  on 
a  piece  of  ice.  Good  by,  and  don't  fail  to  bring  me  all  the 
news. ' ' 

"No,  I'll  not,"  I  answered,  starting  on  a  run,  greatly  elated 
at  having  at  last  enlisted  Fox  in  Uncle  Job's  behalf. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 

THE  DRAGON'S  MASTER 

Nearing  the  Dragon,  I  discovered  Mr.  Seymour  standing 
on  the  porch,  without  hat  or  coat,  smoking  a  pipe,  an  occu- 
pation that  seemed  greatly  to  his  liking,  as  indeed  it  is  to 
most  of  his  sturdy  countrymen.  Shivering  in  the  icy  air, 
I  thought  his  dress  far  from  appropriate ;  but  then  English- 
men are  hardier  than  we,  though  why  this  should  be  I  do  not 
know,  unless  they  are  bred  in  a  more  rugged  climate  or  spend 
more  of  their  time  in  the  open  air.  Scanning  his  ruddy  face 
and  upright  figure,  all  the  things  I  had  been  taught  as 
a  schoolboy  to  believe  of  his  countrymen  came  back  as  if  to 
puzzle  me  by  their  presence.  But  were  the  stories  true? 
I  asked  myself  as  I  walked  on  more  slowly.  Yes,  every  one 
of  them,  and  more;  but  if  that  were  so,  then  Mr.  Seymour 
could  not  be  like  the  others — those  sent  hither  in  the  Colonial 
days  by  the  Odious  King  whom  the  forefathers  defied  and 
treated  with  scorn  and  contumely.  No!  He  was  an  excep- 
tion to  the  Sodden  Crew,  the  consorters  of  Hessians  and  the 
like.  Or,  after  all,  were  McGuffy's  stories  of  Oppression  and 
the  Flaming  Torch  vain  and  wanton  imaginings  only!  No! 
They  were  true  enough;  and  it  is  thou,  sweet  Constance,  that 
hast  led  me  to  doubt,  and  who  will  in  the  end,  if  I  do  not 
have  a  care,  uproot  all  the  traditions  of  my  country,  making 
its  patriotic  pillars  to  topple  and  fall  as  if  they  were  not. 
Come  back  to  me,  then,  thou  sturdy  belief  in  the  Cruel 
Oppressor  in  the  days  when  the  patriots  resolved  and  fought, 
and  in  the  end  filled  all  the  places  of  preferment  and  profit. 
Hated  Englishmen!  Monsters  of  greed!  Oppressors  of  the 
patriots!  Devisers  of  stamps  and  nefarious  taxes!  Let  me 
290 


The  Dragon's  Master  291 

never  cease  to  despise  you,  though  Constance  be  all  the  world 
to  me  and  more!  Or,  and  the  thought  would  come,  however 
much  I  strove  to  force  it  back,  were  the  tales  of  oppression 
shadowy  phantoms  merely  of  a  gloomy  period?  Men  in  buck- 
ram, so  to  speak,  conjured  up  and  kept  alive  to  stir  the  patri- 
ot's heart!  Were  indeed  the  servants  of  the  British  Tyrant 
like  other  men,  sturdy  and  fair-minded  and  of  good  sleep,  so 
far  as  men  can  be,  or  odious  oppressors,  as  the  Teachers  point 
out  and  the  Schoolbooks  show?  Oh,  Constance,  thou  dream 
of  grace  and  love,  what  doubts  thy  sweet  face  and  entrancing 
eyes  have  caused  to  rise  like  a  fog  across  the  revolutionary 
moor  that  I  have  been  taught  to  believe  a  part  of  the  heritage 
of  my  countrymen!  Surely  thou  hast  undone  me,  loyal  youth 
though  I  be! 

With  such  thoughts,  imperfect  and  fragmentary,  but  fore- 
runners of  others  to  come  in  after  years,  I  hurried  forward  to 
greet  Mr.  Seymour.  Hearing  me,  he  turned  about,  surprised 
at  my  appearance,  crying  out  as  he  came  forward  and  took 
my  hand: 

"Hello,  Gilbert!     Welcome  home!" 

"Thank  you,  sir;   I'm  glad  to  get  back,"  I  answered. 

"Where  do  you  come  from,  and  on  such  a  morning?"  he 
asked,  looking  me  over. 

"From  the  Blakes,  where  I've  been  since  I  left  here." 

"The  Blakes — and  all  this  while  and  we  not  know  it!"  he 
answered,  half  incredulously.  "Why,  Blake  has  been  here 
half  the  time,  and  yet  has  not  mentioned  your  name." 

"Yes,  sir;  but  it  was  agreed  that  nothing  was  to  be  said 
until  Uncle  Job  had  matters  fixed  up  with  Moth,"  I  answered. 

"Moth  couldn't  have  harmed  you.  However,  you  went, 
and  that  is  the  end  of  it.  Now  your  uncle  himself  is  in 
trouble,  and  Moth  is  egging  it  on,"  Mr.  Seymour  answered, 
with  lowering  face. 

"That's  what  brings  me  back.  I  didn't  know  till  yester- 
day, or  I'd  ITave  come  before." 

"How  does  it  happen  that  Blake  let  you  come  on  foot  in 


292  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

such  weather?"  Mr.  Seymour  asked,  in  a  voice  in  which  anger 
and  astonishment  blended. 

"I  didn't  tell  him  I  was  coming.  But  how  is  Uncle  Job?" 
I  asked,  anxious  to  learn  all  I  could  about  his  affairs. 

"Well,  but  in  poor  spirits,  of  course.  It  couldn't  be  other- 
wise in  the  desperate  strait  he  is  in,"  Mr.  Seymour  answered, 
soberly. 

"Is  it  desperate,  then?"  I  asked,  my  anxiety  increased  by 
his  manner. 

"Yes;  a  week  or  more  has  gone  by  without  our  being  able 
to  find  the  silghtest  clew  to  the  theft,  and  the  trial  comes  off 
in  three  days." 

"In  three  days!"  I  cried;  "surely  they  might  give  him 
time  to  prove  his  innocence." 

"There  is  no  haste,  they  think,  and  in  this  case  your  uncle 
expressly  asks  it,  the  court  being  now  in  session.  He  says  he 
is  innocent,  and  will  scarce  talk  to  a  lawyer,  not  believing  any 
one,  least  of  all  an  Appletop  jury,  will  think  him  guilty.  In 
this  I  fear  he  is  mistaken,  and  I  am  filled  with  anxiety  in 
regard  to  him,  so  unfortunate  does  his  case  appear." 

"You  don't  think  him  guilty,  sir?" 

"No,  certainly  not." 

"Does  any  one?     He,  of  all  men!" 

"At  first  every  one  scouted  the  idea,"  Mr.  Seymour 
answered,  "but  now  the  feeling  has  changed.  It  is  partly 
due,  I  think,  to  the  devilish  persistency  of  Moth,  though 
appearances  are  all  against  your  uncle,  if  the  truth  must  be 
told." 

"How  did  Moth  come  to  be  mixed  up  with  it?"  I  asked, 
wondering  at  the  fate  that  always  brought  this  man  to  the 
front  in  every  trouble  of  my  life. 

"He  happened  to  be  in  Rock  Island  when  news  of  the  rob- 
bery reached  there,  and  being  the  attorney  of  the  party  to 
whom  the  money  belonged,  was  brought  along  to  help  hunt 
down  the  criminal.  Now  he  is  to  act  as  the  prosecuting 
attorney." 


The  Dragon's  Master  293 

"The  villain!  And  he  is  glad  of  the  chance  I'm  sure," 
•was  all  I  could  say. 

"Perhaps;  but  there  is  some  one  else,  we  can  t  tell  who, 
that  occupies  himself  creating  suspicions  and  suggesting  this 
and  that.  It  doesn't  matter,  however,  the  thing  for  us  is  to 
disprove  the  charge;  but  how  this  is  to  be  done  I  can't  see," 
Mr.  Seymour  answered,  as  if  the  question  were  one  he  had 
asked  himself  many  times  before. 

"Is  no  one  thought  to  be  concerned  except  Uncle  Job?" 
I  asked,  feeling  the  ground  sinking  beneath  my  feet. 

"No;  and  the  worst  of  it  is  he  insisted  on  guarding  the 
money  himself  that  night.  Rathe  volunteered  to  do  it,  but 
your  uncle  wouldn't  have  it  that  way." 

"Couldn't  the  money  have  been  taken  without  uncle's 
knowing  it,  while  he  was  asleep?  Surely  there  would  be  noth- 
ing strange  in  that,"  I  asked,  believing  it  to  be  so. 

"Yes,  and  your  Uncle  Job  claims  that  is  how  it  was;  that 
he  was  drugged,  in  fact.  I  am  sure  that  is  the  way  it  hap- 
pened ;  but  how  could  any  one  have  drugged  him  when  he  was 
locked  in  his  room?  they  say." 

"How  did  he  happen  to  have  the  money?*'  I  asked. 

"It  was  a  collection  he  had  made  for  a  client." 

"Did  any  one  know  he  had  it  in  his  office?*'  I  asked. 

"Only  Rathe  and  I,  so  far  as  we  know,  though  of  course 
there  might  have  been  others." 

"Rathe!     And  where  was  he  that  night?" 

"He  stopped  here,  and  never  left  the  house.  He  appears 
greatly  worried,  claiming  the  loss  will  ruin  his  business  and 
discredit  him  forever." 

"The  sneak!  I  don't  believe  he  cares — or  if  anything,  is 
glad  of  it.  How  much  money  was  there?"  I  asked,  feeling 
that  every  inquiry  made  the  case  look  the  worse  for  Uncle  Job. 

"Ten  thousand  dollars,"  he  answered,  reflectively;  "a 
fortune  here." 

"How  could  he  hide  so  much  money?"  I  asked,  remember- 
ing the  great  stacks  of  bills  my  father  used  to  bring  home  and 


294  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

the  trouble  mother  and  he  had  in  secreting  them  about  the 
house. 

"It  was  mostly  in  big  bills,  with  some  gold  and  silver." 

"Did  you  see  it?" 

"Yes,  but  only  casually,  as  he  and  Rathe  sealed  it  up." 

"Uncle  Job  took  it  in  charge  afterward?" 

"Yes;  Rathe  and  I  coming  away  together.  At  daybreak 
the  next  morning  your  uncle  woke  us  up,  complaining  of  his 
head  and  looking  wild  and  disordered.  He  couldn't  give  any 
account  of  the  money,  however,  except  that  he  thought  he 
had  been  drugged,  and  indeed  the  odor  of  chloroform  filled 
the  room,  as  I  found  on  going  there,  which  I  did  at  once." 

"That's  enough  to  clear  him,"  I  cried.  "Nothing  could 
be  plainer." 

"Yes,  so  it  would  seem;  but  they  claim  he  invented  the 
story. ' ' 

"The  room  was  filled  with  the  stuff,  you  say?" 

"Yes;  but  Moth  says  your  uncle  spilled  it  himself,  to  hide 
the  crime." 

"The  liar!  he  knows  better.  Oh,  it's  wicked  to  accuse 
Uncle  Job  when  he  can't  prove  what  he  says." 

"Yes,  that  is  what  his  friends  think;  but  what  we  are  say- 
ing don't  lead  to  anything,  and  while  we  are  talking  you  are 
freezing.  Come,  Constance  will  want  to  see  you  and  welcome 
you  back."  Saying  which,  Mr.  Seymour,  not  a  whit  the  worse 
for  the  cold,  took  my  arm  and  led  me  into  the  house,  though 
I  was  all  of  a  tremor,  so  biting  was  the  air. 

Mr.  Seymour  ordered  breakfast  served  in  the  Treasury, 
looking  upon  my  coming  as  an  event,  he  said.  Constance 
being  told  of  my  arrival,  came  in  presently,  looking  pale  and 
distressed,  and  seeing  me  beside  her  father,  ran  forward  with- 
out speaking,  save  to  call  my  name,  clasping  her  arms  about 
my  neck  and  hiding  her  face  on  my  shoulder. 

"There,  Puss,  don't  give  way  like  that,"  Mr.  Seymour 
exclaimed.  "Gilbert  is  all  right,  and  with  the  strength  and 
color  of  a  prince,  as  you  can  see." 


The  Dragon's  Master  295 

"Yes,  papa;  but  when  I  heard  he  was  here  the  fear  that 
something  dreadful  had  happened  gave  me  such  a  fright 
I  could  scarce  stand." 

This  I  did  not  doubt,  for  the  dear  girl  trembled  as  with 
a  chill,  and  loosing  her  hands  and  taking  them  in  mine,  I  drew 
her  to  me  and  kissed  her,  saying: 

"I  was  never  in  such  fine  health  in  my  life,  Constance;  the 
country  is  the  place  to  build  one  up,  you  know." 

At  breakfast,  seated  beside  her,  I  forgot,  and  wholly, 
Uncle  Job  and  the  errand  on  which  I  had  come.  How  beau- 
tiful she  was,  I  thought.  Almost  a  woman,  too,  in  height,  and 
with  the  grace  of  one.  Surely  there  never  was  any  one  sc 
fair  and  good  as  she.  Pressing  her  hand,  I  wondered  that 
I  could  have  remained  so  long  away,  or  that  another's  troubles 
should  have  been  needed  to  bring  me  back;  but  so  it  was. 
always.  Loving  her,  I  was  content,  or  thought  I  was,  when 
away,  knowing  her  thoughts,  like  mine,  were  ever  such  as  we 
would  have  shared  had  we  been  together.  Thus  it  had  been 
from  the  first,  neither  change  of  place  nor  period  making  any 
difference  to  us,  but  constant  in  all  things,  each  day  only 
added  to  our  love.  Nor,  as  I  have  told  you,  was  this  affec- 
tion in  anything  like  that  of  children;  nor  of  brother  or  sister, 
but  of  man  and  woman.  This  Mr.  Seymour  knew,  and  since 
that  day  at  Wild  Plum  had  treated  me  in  all  things  as  if  I  were 
his  son  and  a  man  grown.  Of  the  reason  for  this,  remember- 
ing my  youth,  I  do  not  know,  unless  indeed  something  in  his 
own  life  led  him  to  view  the  matter  differently  from  what 
other  men  would  have  done  in  his  place.  Thus  all  things 
contributed  to  make  the  bond  between  us  as  strong  as  the 
affections  of  two  loving  and  trusting  hearts  could  make  it; 
and  thus  it  continued,  each  day  only  adding  to  its  strength. 

"Gilbert's  come  back  to  see  if  he  can  aid  his  Uncle  Job," 
Mr.  Seymour  remarked,  as  he  arose  from  the  table.  "Maybe 
you  can  help  him,  Puss.  Two  such  wise  young  heads  ought 
to  be  equal  to  most  anything.  He  has  lost  no  time  in  finding 
out  everything  I  know"  ;  and  with  that  he  kissed  her  and  went 


296  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

out,  turning  at  the  door  to  smile  upon  her,  half  in  banter, 
Jialf  in  earnest. 

"Yes,  Constance,"  I  said,  turning  to  her,  "I've  come  back 
to  help  Uncle  Job,  but  how,  I  can't  see." 

"I  am  sure  you  will  be  able  to  help  him  if  any  one  can, 
Gilbert,"  she  answered,  with  simple  trust;  "I  have  thought 
of  him  so  much  because  of  you,  and  knowing  how  distressed 
you  would  be  when  you  came  to  hear  of  his  misfortune." 

"That's  like  you,  Constance,  but  what  can  we  do?  Who 
could  have  stolen  the  money  and  yet  have  covered  it  up  so 
-well?" 

"There  were  but  two  who  knew  he  had  the  money — papa 
.and  Mr.  Rathe.  Papa  didn't  take  it,  we  know.  Then  if  he 
•did  not,  Rathe  must,  and  that  I  believe." 

"He  never  left  the  house,  your  father  says,  and  so  how 
could  he  have  taken  it?"  I  answered. 

"Papa  thinks  so,  but  how  do  we  know.  He  could  have 
left  the  house  easily  enough  during  the  night  without  any  one 
knowing  it,  I'm  sure." 

"Oh,  you  sweet  child!"  I  cried,  my  heart  filling.  For 
from  the  moment  Mr.  Seymour  had  mentioned  Rathe's  name 
I  believed  him  to  be  the  thief,  and  no  other.  "How  can  we 
prove  it,  though,  for  no  one  suspects  him,  not  even  your 
father,"  I  added,  looking  at  her  to  see  how  she  took  it. 

"I  don't  know  about  that.  Papa's  a  man,  and  doesn't 
•always  say  what  he  thinks;  but  I  know  he  doesn't  like  Rathe 
any  more  than  we  do." 

"Well,  we  must  wait  and  see  what  Fox  says,"  I  answered. 
"I'm  going  to  meet  him  to-night  and  let  him  know  every- 
thing I  can  find  out.  He's  promised  to  help,  though  afraid 
to  come  to  Appletop  because  of  Moth." 

"You  thought  he  could  aid  you  before,  I  know,  but  how 
can  he  do  anything  if  he  dare  not  show  himself?"  she  asked, 
.as  if  not  placing  much  hope  in  anything  he  could  do. 

"Men  like  him  know  more  than  others  about  things  of  this 


The  Dragon's  Master  297 

kind,  I've  heard  say.     They  are  more  alert,  I  suppose,  and 
Fox  seems  so  clear  in  his  way  of  looking  at  things." 

"I  hope  he  can  help.  I'm  sure  he  thinks  a  great  deal  of 
you  or  he  would  not  have  come  to  make  inquiries  when  you 
were  sick.  I  wouldn't  build  too  much  on  him,  though,  if 
I  were  you,  Gilbert,  for  Moth  is  weaving  a  dreadful  web 
about  your  uncle,  I  fear,"  the  sweet  girl  answered,  as  if  look- 
ing forward  to  some  great  sorrow  in  store  for  me;  and  with 
the  words,  she  put  her  arms  about  my  neck  and  pressed  her 
face  against  mine  in  comfort  of  companionship  and  tender 
sympathy. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 

THE  DEPTHS 

After  breakfast  I  asked  Constance  to  go  with  me  to  see 
Uncle  Job,  and  her  father  assenting,  we  soon  reached  the  jail 
where  he  was  confined.  It  was  a  forlorn-looking  place,  built 
of  rough  logs,  strips  of  wood  and  plaster  filling  the  interven- 
ing spaces.  Gaining  admission,  we  found  Uncle  Job  in  a  cell 
apart,  and  so  cold  and  cheerless  of  aspect  that  we  could  scarce 
restrain  our  tears  at  the  sight  of  it.  He,  not  expecting  us, 
was  quite  upset,  but  recovering  himself,  asked  us  to  sit  down 
on  the  rude  bench  that  half-filled  the  place  and  answered  for 
both  seat  and  bed. 

"Your  faces  are  like  a  glimpse  of  heaven,"  he  exclaimed, 
putting  his  arms  about  us  with  tender  affection. 

To  this  we  could  make  no  reply,  and  for  a  long  time  sat 
bolt  upright,  holding  his  hands  and  gazing  at  the  blank  wall 
before  us.  At  last,  mustering  some  courage,  I  said: 

"I  would  have  been  here  before,  uncle,  but  have  been  liv- 
ing at  the  Blakes',  and  it  was  only  yesterday  that  he  came 
home  and  told  us  of  your  trouble." 

"Then  that  is  where  you  have  been?"  he  asked,  surprised 
at  what  I  said. 

"Yes,"  I  replied. 

"They  are  kind  people,  and  had  I  known  you  were  there, 
I  should  not  have  worried  about  you." 

"It  was  foolish  in  me  to  run  away,  and  I'm  ashamed  of 
myself;  and  now  more  than  ever,"  I  answered,  unable  to  say 
more. 

"You  need  not  have  feared  Moth;  and  now  he  is  under 
bonds  not  to  molest  you,  so  there  will  be  no  further  trouble." 
298 


The  Depths  299 

"I  am  glad  of  that,  though  I  don't  care  for  him  any  more. 
He  is  a  scoundrel  and  sneak,  and  I'm  going  to  give  him 
a  thrashing  when  I  see  him,"  I  answered,  and  meaning  to  do 
as  I  said. 

"That  is  foolish  talk,  Gilbert.  You  must  not  get  into  any 
trouble  with  him.  He  is  a  man  to  fear  and  avoid.  Wait; 
time  will  bring  everything  out  right." 

"Yes,  we  hope  so;  but  Moth  deserves  a  beating  just  the 
same  for  mixing  up  so  much  in  our  affairs,"  I  answered. 

"Nothing  he  attempts  against  us  will  succeed,"  Uncle  Job 
answered,  and  believing  what  he  said.  For  he  was  in  all 
things  a  very  religious  man,  and  did  not  think  it  possible  that 
the  innocent  could  suffer  wrong. 

"What  chance  have  you,  Uncle  Job,  anyway,  for  we  are 
all  worried  to  death?"  I  exclaimed  at  last,  my  emotion  over- 
coming me. 

"The  chance  an  innocent  man  always  has";  saying  which 
he  looked  into  my  eyes,  as  if  to  read  there  my  inmost  thoughts 
concerning  him. 

"We  know  you're  innocent,  we're  sure  you  are," 
I  answered;  "but  if  they  don't  believe  it  and  find  you 
guilty?" 

"How  can  I  help  that,  save  by  telling  the  truth?  There 
is  no  other  way,  for  I  can't  make  head  or  tail  of  it,  and 
haven't  a  single  witness.  Nothing  save  my  word  and  what 
men  know  of  me." 

"They  know  nothing  but  good  of  you,  but  who  did  take 
the  money?  You  know,  I'm  sure." 

"If  I  knew,  I  would  say  so;  but  I  don't,  and  so  can't 
accuse- any  one." 

"Then  who  do  you  think  took  it?''  I  asked,  standing  up 
and  facing  him. 

"What  I  think  isn't  of  any  account  unless  I  know  and  can 
prove  it,  and  that  I  can't  do." 

"Yes,  and  keeping  still,  they  will  convict  you!"  I  cried, 
stirred  out  of  all  patience  by  his  calm  assurance. 


300  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"I  hope  not;  but  there  is  no  other  way  that  I  know  of,  or 
that  others  can  devise  for  me,  so  far  as  I  can  see." 

"Mr.  Seymour  says  you  were  drugged." 

"I  was,  but  by  whom  I  can't  tell;  and  as  regards  the 
money,  I  know  no  more  about  it  than  Constance  here,"  he 
exclaimed,  laying  his  hand  on  her  head.  At  this  she  burst 
into  tears,  and  for  that  matter  Uncle  Job  himself  could  no 
longer  maintain  any  semblance  of  calmness,  so  great  was  his 
distress. 

Long  we  talked,  but  without  any  result,  for  not  a  thing 
could  I  learn  likely  to  afford  Fox  a  clew  to  work  upon.  When 
at  last  we  returned  home,  much  discouraged,  we  were  greatly 
surprised  to  find  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Blake  awaiting  us.  Mrs. 
Blake  greeted  me  in  the  most  affectionate  way,  throwing  her 
arms  about  my  body  and  holding  me  against  her  bosom  for 
a  long  time  without  speaking.  At  last  overcoming  her  agita- 
tion, she  exclaimed  between  her  sobs: 

"How  could  you  leave  us  in  the  way  you  did,  Gilbert; 
and  the  horror  of  (it,  too!  You  can  never  know,  you  foolish 
boy,  how  my  heart  sank  when  I  found  you  were  out  in  that 
dreadful  storm.  How  could  you  have  been  so  cruel?"  and 
stopping,  she  held  me  from  her,  as  if  to  assure  herself  that  it 
was  I  and  no  one  else  she  clasped  in  her  arms. 

"I  had  no  thought  of  the  storm  or  that  I  ran  any  risk. 
Indeed,  it  was  not  so  bad,  after  all,  for  when  I  reached  the 
Eagle's  Nest  I  found  supper  and  a  warm  bed.  I'm  not  a  bit 
the  worse,  you  see,  for  the  journey;  but  I'm  sorry  to  have 
caused  you  so  much  anxiety  and  trouble,  and  hope  you'll  for- 
give me,"  I  answered,  much  cast  down  at  her  distress. 

"I  never  saw  a  storm  so  fierce  and  wild.  We  scarce  slept 
for  the  cold  and  rocking  of  the  house  in  the  wind ;  and  when, 
late  in  the  night,  I  went  to  your  room  to  see  how  you  were 
getting  on,  I  thought  I  should  have  died  when  I  found  you 
gone  and  your  bed  untouched.  Sitting  about  until  there  was 
a  bit  of  light,  we  started  after  you,  stopping,  with  our  hearts 
in  our  mouths,  to  stir  every  mound  of  snow  by  the  wayside, 


The  Depths  301 

expecting  to  find  your  body  beneath  it.  Oh,  it  was  dread- 
ful!" 

"Oh,  Gilbert,  you  never  told  us  a  word  of  this,"  Con- 
stance cried,  coming  to  my  side.  "How  could  you  have  kept 
it  back?" 

"It  was  not  nearly  so  bad  as  Mrs.  Blake  thinks,  Constance. 
I  reached  the  tavern  all  right,  and  in  a  little  while  was  as 
good  as  new.  If  the  night  hadn't  turned  out  as  it  did,  I  would 
have  been  here  by  twelve  o'clock,  and  none  the  worse  for  the 
tramp,  either." 

"Yes,  but  think,  Miss  Constance,  of  his  being  in  the  forest 
alone,  and  on  such  a  night  and  clad  as  he  was!  We  will 
always  blame  ourselves  for  not  bringing  him  here  yesterday, 
as  he  implored  us  to  do." 

"Please  don't  talk  of  it  any  more,  I  love  you  so  much!" 
I  cried  out  at  last.  "I  couldn't  help  doing  what  I  did." 

"I  know  you  couldn't;  and  we  are  happy  in  finding  you 
alive  and  well.  You  will  go  back  with  us,  or  if  not  now,  when 
your  uncle's  trouble  is  fixed  up,  as  we  hope  and  pray  it  will 
be  soon.  You  know  we  love  you  as  if  you  were  our  own  son." 

"That  we  do,  Gilbert,  and  wish  you  to  live  with  us  always, ' ' 
Mr.  Blake  now  broke  in  for  the  first  time. 

"Sweet  lady,"  Mr.  Seymour  here  interposed,  coming  for- 
ward and  taking  Mrs.  Blake's  hand  and  kissing  it  reverently 
as  a  son  might,  "I  want  to  thank  you  and  Mr.  Blake  for  your 
kindness  to  Gilbert  and  love  for  him;  and  I  am  made  happy, 
madam,  by  having  an  insight  into  a  heart  so  affectionate  and 
true  and  every  way  worthy  of  regard.  Gilbert  is  as  my  own 
son,  and  I  kiss  your  hand  again,  madam,  to  show  my  respect 
and  love  for  you,"  and  Mr.  Seymour  bent  over  and  lifted  her 
hand  to  his  lips  with  as  much  deference  as  he  would  have 
shown  his  queen.  Constance,  who  had  stood  by  with  tears 
dimming  her  eyes,  now  put  her  soft  arms  about  Mrs.  Blake 
and  embraced  and  kissed  her,  as  if  she  could  not  show  plainly 
enough  how  much  she  loved  her  for  her  tender  heart. 

As  the  Blakes  had  left  home  without  their  breakfast,  and 


302  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

it  was  now  midday,  Constance  ordered  luncheon  spread  for 
them  in  the  Treasury,  and  while  they  were  satisfying  their 
hunger  we  sat  about  or  waited  upon  them  with  loving  atten- 
tion. Afterward,  as  they  could  not  be  prevailed  upon  to  stop 
longer,  Constance  and  I  went  with  them  to  the  edge  of  the 
town,  where  we  watched  till  they  were  out  of  sight.  When  it 
was  dark,  I  went  to  meet  Fox,  as  we  had  agreed,  but  without 
hope,  so  little  had  I  been  able  to  learn  that  would  be  of  use 
to  him.  He  was  there  before  me,  and  upon  hearing  my  voice, 
which  I  could  by  no  means  render  cheerful,  cried  out  in  great 
spirits: 

"Don't  be  downhearted,  you  little  vagrant,  but  tell  me 
all  you  have  found  out,  not  forgetting  the  smallest  thing,  as 
I  told  you.  It  is  in  some  trifle  that  the  rogues  always  give 
themselves  away,  the  thief-catchers  say.  I  ought  to  have 
been  a  constable,  and  not  a  preacher,  my  boy,"  he  went  on, 
with  cheerful  unconcern;  "but  many  a  good  man  has  made 
a  like  mistake.  It  shows,  you  see,  how  little  we  know  what 
we  are  good  for  when  young.  Come  now,  commence  at  the 
beginning  and  tell  me  what  you  have  discovered,  and  take 
your  time  about  it,  for  there  is  no  hurry." 

Thus  encouraged,  I  told  him  all  I  had  found  out,  not  omit- 
ting anything  I  could  remember,  however  trifling. 

"So  Miss  Constance  thinks  Rathe  is  the  thief,  does  she? 
A  bright  girl,  I'll  wager;  but  why  does  she  think  that?"  he 
asked,  when  I  had  concluded. 

"Because  neither  of  us  like  him,  and  because  he  and  Mr. 
Seymour  were  the  only  ones  there  when  the  money  was  sealed 
up  the  evening  before  the  robbery." 

"So  they  sealed  it  up,  did  they?  What  was  that  for, 
I  wonder?" 

"I  don't  know,  unless  to  make  sure." 

"Well,  it  was  business-like,  anyway;  but  Miss  Constance 
must  have  some  other  reason  for  disliking  Rathe?" 

"Yes,  because  he  and  Uncle  Job  are  rivals." 

"Rivals!  rivals!     For  what,  I'd  like  to  know?" 


The  Depths  303 

"For  Miss  Betty's  favor." 

*4What  is  that  you  are  saying?     Pray,  who  is  Miss  Betty?" 

"Miss  Betty  Singleton,  a  young  lady  in  Appletop." 

"How  long  have  they  been  rivals?" 

"I  don't  know,  but  before  I  came  here." 

"Well,  this  is  what  I  call  gossip,  Gilbert,  and  makes  me 
feel  as  if  I  were  in  Boston  again.  We  ought  to  have  a  cup  of 
tea  and  a  bit  of  toast  and  a  cozy  fire  to  enjoy  it  fully,  though. 
Which  of  the  suitors,  pray,  does  Miss  Betty  favor — your  uncle 
or  the  other  man?" 

"Uncle  Job,  Constance  thinks." 

"I'll  bet  she  is  right,  too,  if  Miss  Betty  is  a  girl  of  sense, 
and  she  is  or  your  uncle  wouldn't  care  for  her.  So  the  rivalry 
has  been  on  for  a  long  time — before  you  had  that  scare  in 
Murderer's  Hollow,  probably?" 

"Yes,  long  before  that." 

"Well,  you  have  a  fine  ear  for  gossip,  Gilbert,  if  you  are 
not  much  of  a  detective.  Let  me  see  now,"  he  went  on,  "if 
I  have  everything  straight";  and  with  that  he  began  to  ques- 
tion me  afresh  about  the  robbery,  and  the  money,  and  the 
shape  it  was  in,  and  how  and  where  Uncle  Job  lived,  and 
about  his  business  and  love  affair,  and  a  thousand  other  things 
of  which  I  could  see  no  point  whatever. 

"You  have  not  told  me  when  the  trial  is  to  come  off,"  he 
exclaimed,  finally,  "or  isn't  that  decided  yet?" 

"In  three  days  from  now." 

"Whew!  but  they  are  speedy!  Let  me  see,  the  robbery 
happened  eight  days  ago.  That  is  hardly  giving  him  time  to 
turn  around." 

"That's  what  I  think,  but  Mr.  Seymour  says  it's  the  way, 
and  that  Uncle  Job  wishes  it  hurried,"  I  answered. 

"Yes;  and  it's  as  good  a  way  as  any.  The  sooner  men 
are  tried  and  afforded  a  chance  to  prove  their  innocence,  or 
stand  convicted,  the  more  likely  justice  is  to  be  done.  Only 
time  enough  should  be  given  to  get  together  the  evidence. 
More  than  that  is  a  trick." 


304  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"Enough  time  hasn't  been  allowed  Uncle  Job,'* 
I  answered,  "for  there's  only  three  days  more,  and  nothing 
has  been  done." 

"I  don't  know.  A  good  many  things  might  happen  in 
three  days,  Gilbert;  so  don't  be  too  downhearted.  Go  back 
to  town  and  see  what  more  you  can  learn,  and  don't  forget  to 
spy  out  what  Moth  and  the  constable  are  doing.  Then  come 
here  the  second  night  from  this,  crammed  with  news,  and 
I  will  be  here  to  meet  you.  You  are  sure,  though,  that  you 
have  told  me  everything  you  have  heard?"  he  added. 

"Yes,  I'm  sure." 

"Well,  then,  if  that  is  all,  give  me  your  hand  and  I  will 
help  you  to  a  ride  to  town." 

On  our  way  back  he  sought  to  cheer  me  up,  but  not  with 
much  success,  for  I  could  see  no  loophqle  by  which  Uncle  Job 
could  escape,  so  closely  was  the  web  drawn  about  him — 
unless,  indeed,  his  good  name  should  serve  him  with  the  jury, 
as  he  thought;  but  of  this  I  had  not  much  hope,  so  greatly  did 
I  fear  Moth's  misrepresentations  and  sarcasm  of  speech. 

The  next  day,  when  on  my  way  to  visit  Uncle  Job,  I  met 
Blott  as  he  was  leaving  the  jail.  Jerking  his  thumb  over  his 
shoulder  in  the  direction  of  Uncle  Job's  cell,  he  remarked, 
in  his  slow  way: 

"He's  in  the  spider's  web,  sure ;  Pickle's  got  him,  the  little 
ant!" 

"Yes,"  I  cried;  "and  he  is  the  man  who  saved  your  life. 
Now  he's  in  trouble  why  don't  you  save  him,  and  pay  your 
debt?"  I  asked,  in  a  heat. 

"There's  nothin'  in  the  world  I  wouldn't  do  to  help  him. 
He  saved  my  life  an'  saved  me  from  other  things  worse'n 
dyin',"  Blott  answered,  mournfully.  "I  could  git  him  out  of 
jail  easy  enough,  if  that  was  all,  an'  offered  to,  but  he  won't 
budge." 

"I  spoke  without  thinking,  Blott,"  I  answered,  ashamed 
of  myself;  "but  he  is  in  trouble,  and  needs  friends,  and  hasn't 
any." 


The  Depths  305- 

"He's  lots  of  friends,  an'  that's  all  the  good  it  does;  but 
the  Lord  ain't  goin'  to  let  a  man  like  him  be  eaten  up  by 
moths,  I  don't  believe,  though  how  he's  to  be  saved  I  don't 
see." 

"Can't  anything  be  done?"  I  asked,  in  despair. 

"Not  as  it  appears  now;  but  be  cheerf,  Gilbert,  be  cheerf. 
It'll  all  come  out  right  in  the  end,  an'  truth'll  triumph,  if 
what  the  Sunday-school  teachers  preach  is  true.  To  make 
sure,  though,  git  your  uncle  into  the  idea  of  movin',  an'  I  '11 
have  him  clear  of  the  place  an'  out  of  the  country  in  twenty- 
four  hours";  saying  which,  Blott  wrung  my  hand  and  hurried 
away,  as  if  not  daring  to  trust  himself  to  speak  further. 

Save  what  I  have  related,  the  two  days  passed  without  my 
being  able  to  find  out  anything  new  or  of  interest  to  Fox. 
Upon  my  going  to  the  meeting-place,  as  we  had  agreed,  how- 
ever, he  was  not  there,  nor  did  he  come.  This  I  could  not 
account  for,  unless,  indeed,  he  was  discouraged  like  the 
others,  and  seeing  no  hope  for  Uncle  Job  had  avoided  meet- 
ing me.  This  I  thought  was  the  case,  but  waiting  until  mid- 
night, I  at  last  returned  home,  worn  and  discouraged,  with- 
out one  comforting  thought  regarding  the  trial  to  come  off 
the  following  day. 


CHAPTER  XL 

JOB  THROCKMORTON'S  TRIAL:  THE  TRAGEDY 

The  next  morning  I  arose  at  break  of  day  and  hastened  to 
the  jail,  to  be  with  Uncle  Job  to  comfort  him  in  some  meas- 
ure, if  that  were  possible,  before  going  to  the  place  of  trial. 
Afterward,  seated  beside  him  in  the  crowded  courtroom, 
I  looked  about,  to  see  Miss  Betty  a  few  feet  away,  her  eyes 
red  and  swollen,  as  if  she  had  grieved  much  and  slept  but  little. 
All  the  fun  was  clean  gone  out  of  the  poor  thing,  and  in  its 
place  nothing  but  sorrow  and  deep  anxiety.  Her  face,  too, 
always  so  rosy  and  smiling,  was  now  pale  and  drawn,  giving 
her  the  look  of  being  much  older  than  she  was.  Meeting  my 
gaze,  she  smiled  upon  me,  as  if  in  gratitude  for  my  being 
there.  Constance  sat  beside  her,  and  when  I  caught  her  eye 
her  face  lighted,  and  this  I  knew  to  comfort  me  and  give  me 
courage  to  abide  the  end,  whatever  it  might  be.  Except  these 
two  and  Setti,  who  sat  next  to  Constance,  no  friendly  look 
met  mine.  Surely,  I  thought,  some  of  our  friends  might 
have  come,  or  was  our  cause  so  desperate  that  every  one 
stayed  away  to  hide  their  grief  at  the  end  they  so  clearly 
foresaw? 

Uncle  Job  bore  himself  like  the  fine  gentleman  he  was, 
neither  courting  nor  shunning  the  eye  of  any  one  when  he 
entered  the  room.  Bowing  politely  to  those  who  recognized 
him,  he  passed  others  who  avoided  acquaintanceship  with  the 
grace  of  unconsciousness  that  only  well-bred  people  possess. 
This  happening  led  me  to  believe  then,  and  this  belief  has 
only  been  strengthened  by  time,  that  no  good  man  or  woman 
ever  can  refuse  to  recognize  another  whom  they  by  chance 
know,  however  humble  or  obscure,  unless  such  person  has 
306 


Job  Throckmorton's  Trial:    The  Tragedy      307 

been  convicted  of  some  crime  that  shames  our  morals.  Only 
the  smaller  parasites  and  hangers-on  of  social  life,  I  am 
assured,  can  commit  such  an  offense  against  good  manners. 
Uncle  Job,  however,  did  not  appear  cast  down  by  what  he 
saw,  though  craving  kindly  sympathy  and  being  a  man  who 
would  have  freely  offered  it  under  like  circumstances. 

Moth  sat  near  by,  looking  pinched  and  meaner  than  ever, 
I  thought,  though  his  appearance  was  always  inferior  to  that 
of  other  men.  The  cunning  look  he  gave  me  from  out  his 
deep-set  eyes  when  I  glanced  his  way  I  pretended  not  to  see, 
so  greatly  did  I  loathe  the  man.  Looking  beyond  to  the  jury, 
I  could  not  make  them  out,  unless,  indeed,  they  had  the  air 
of  expecting  a  treat,  for  which  pay  was  to  be  forthcoming, 
rather  than  having  a  duty  to  perform.  Being  men  tanned  in 
the  sun  and  simple  of  habit,  however,  I  could  not  tell.  Mr. 
Promb,  Uncle  Job's  lawyer,  sat  beside  Moth,  and  suffered 
greatly,  I  thought,  in  comparison  with  that  saffron-faced  and 
eager-eyed  man.  Otherwise  he  was  wholesome  to  look  upon, 
and  without  doubt  much  the  better  man  of  the  two.  If 
Uncle  Job  could  but  have  had  Mr.  Lincoln  to  plead  his  cause, 
I  mourned,  as  we  sat  waiting,  there  would  then  be  no  need  to 
borrow  trouble.  His  innocence  would  be  made  clear  as  noon- 
day to  every  one  by  the  honesty  and  God-like  persuasiveness 
of  his  advocate.  Alas!  neither  he  nor  any  other  fit  person 
for  occasion  so  great  could  be  had,  and  Uncle  Job  must,  per- 
force, suffer  whatever  fate  befell  him.  . 

Mr.  Seymour  had  thought  it  greatly  in  Uncle  Job's  favor 
that  the  trial  was  to  be  before  Judge  Douglas,  a  rising  man, 
already  much  spoken  of  in  the  state  because  of  the  brilliancy 
of  his"  mind  and  his  vast  comprehension  of  the  world  and  its 
affairs.  This  truly  great  man  was,  at  the  time  of  which 
I  speak,  just  beginning  the  wonderful  career  that  for  many 
years  made  him  a  power  in  the  land  and  known  .of  men  far 
and  near,  all  finally  to  culminate  in  his  strivings  after  the 
presidency  with  Mr.  Lincoln  and  his  death  at  an  early  day 
thereafter.  Of  his  greatness,  however,  soon  to  be  proven  in 


308  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

the  Senate  and  elsewhere,  only  the  more  discerning  had  then- 
any  inkling.* 

With  the  arrival  of  the  hour  set  apart,  the  clerk  arose  and 
called  the  trial,  and  loudly,  as  if  the  matter  were  unexpected 
and  notice  now  given  for  the  first  time.  No  sooner  did  he 
cease  and  the  prisoner  had  answered  "Not  guilty,"  than  Moth 
arose,  with  great  show  of  deference  to  the  judge  and  jury. 

"May  it  please  the  honorable  court  and  this  intelligent 
jury,"  he  went  on,  "I  appear  here  on  behalf  of  the  people  to- 
aid  in  the  punishment  of  a  monstrous  crime — a  crime  con- 
ceived in  cunning  and  lust  of  wealth  by  one  who  before  stood 
high  in  the  estimation  of  many  good  men.  You  will  notice 
I  do  not  say  all  good  men,  and  in  this  qualification  I  speak 
advisedly.  Many  have  never  believed  the  prisoner  honest; 
I  never  have,  and  for  good  reason.  He  is  young,  of  aspiring 
nature,  of  unknown  antecedents,  and  greedy  of  preferment 
and  gain.  This  latter  some  of  you  may  have  known  before, 
but  it  is  well  to  again  call  it  to  your  attention.  His  downcast 
look  and  the  lean  and  covetous  lines  about  his  face  tell 
a  story  of  duplicity  and  cunning  no  intelligent  man,  least  of 
all  a  jury  so  circumspect  as  this,  can  mistake,"  and  Moth 
looked  with  lowering  eyes  upon  Uncle  Job,  whose  counte- 
nance, truth  to  say,  was  neither  lowering  nor  covetous,  but 
open  and  manly  as  one  could  wish.  Then  turning  to  the  jury, 
he  cried,  waving  his  hand:  "I  do  not  ask  you  to  believe  me. 
Look  for  yourselves,  gentlemen." 

"I  object  to  this  line  of  procedure,  your  honor,  in  advance 
of  the  evidence,"  Mr.  Promb  broke  in,  with  considerable 
spirit,  "as  being  likely  to  prejudice  the  case  of  my  client,  and 
wrongfully." 

"The  attorney  for  the  state  will  confine  himself  to  the 

*Tbe  Statesman  Gilbert  Holmes  here  refers  to  was  Stephen  A.  Douglas,  called 
"The  Little  Giant"  because  of  his  sturdy  form  and  the  strength  of  his  intellect. 
Judge  Douglas  was  afterward  for  many  years  United  States  Senator  from  Illinois,  and 
prominent  in  the  politics  of  our  country  immediately  preceding  the  great  Civil  War. 
In  1860  he  was  a  candidate  for  President  with  Lincoln  and  Breckenndge,  and  upon  the 
opening  of  the  war,  in  1861,  generously  came  forward  and  offered  Mr.  Lincoln  his  sup- 
port and  that  of  his  adherents.  This  act  of  unsolicited  patriotism  proved  of  incalculable 
benefit  then  and  afterward  to  the  President  and  the  Union.— THE  AUTHOR. 


Job  Throckmorton's  Trial :    The  Tragedy      309 

line  of  evidence  he  proposes  to  present.  The  jury  may  prop- 
erly be  left  to  form  their  own  opinion  of  the  prisoner's  per- 
sonal appearance,"  Judge  Douglas  responded,  with  some 
severity. 

"Very  well,  your  honor;  but  it  is  impossible  to  prejudice 
a  case  so  plain  to  all  men  as  this  will  be  made  to  appear  fur- 
ther on.  Restricting  myself,  however,  as  you  justly  observe, 
we  shall  prove  all  that  I  have  intimated  and  more.  We  will 
prove  that  a  sum  of  money,  great  enough  to  tempt  the  cupid- 
ity of  a  weak  man,  such  as  the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  was  left  in 
his  care,  and  that  taking  advantage  of  the  confidence  reposed 
in  him,  he  deliberately  and  feloniously  and  with  malice  afore- 
thought made  away  with  it,  to  his  own  advantage  and  the 
detriment  of  his  patron  and  the  good  morals  of  society.  All 
this  we  will  prove,  may  it  please  your  honor  and  the  honor- 
able jury." 

When  Moth  concluded,  Mr.  Promb  arose,  but  only  to 
excuse  himself  from  addressing  the  court  at  this  stage  of  the 
proceedings.  Whereupon  Moth  sprang  to  his  feet  again  and 
asked  that  Mr.  Henry  Seymour,  a  friend  of  the  prisoner,  be 
sworn.  When  thus  called,  Mr.  Seymour,  who  sat  some  way 
off,  arose  and  made  his  way  to  the  witness-stand,  all  eyes 
turned  expectantly  upon  him,  as  if  he,  too,  might  possibly  be 
guilty,  being  a  friend  of  the  accused.  Passing  Uncle  Job, 
the  latter  smiled  upon  him  as  if  in  assurance  of  unalterable 
good  will,  whatever  his  testimony  might  be  When  Mr.  Sey- 
mour had  been  sworn,  Moth  proceeded: 

"Were  you  present  in  the  office  of  Throckmorton  &  Rathe 
on  the  evening  when  the  sum  of  money  stolen,  amounting  to 
about  ten  thousand  dollars,  was  intrusted  to  the  personal  care 
of  Job  Throckmorton  for  safe-keeping  over  night?" 

"I  was." 

"Did  the  said  Throckmorton  receive  the  money?" 

"He  did." 

"Did  he  not  volunteer  to  perform  this  service  without 
solicitation  from  any  one?  Nay,  did  he  not  insist  upon  assum- 


310  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

ing'the  care  of  the  money  when  Mr.  Rathe  asked  to  be  allowed 
to  perform  the  duty?"  Moth  went  on. 

"I  do  not  understand  that  Rathe  did  more  than  volunteer 
to  take  charge  of  the  money." 

"Answer  my  question,  yes  or  no.  Did  not  the  prisoner 
insist  upon  remaining  at  the  office  to  guard  the  money?" 

Upon  this  the  witness  turned  to  the  judge,  as  if  seeking 
guidance,  and  the  latter  nodding  assent,  Mr.  Seymour 
answered,  but  with  manifest  reluctance,  it  was  plain: 

"He  did." 

"Afterward,  on  the  following  morning,  when  the  money 
had  been  stolen,  what  reason  did  Throckmorton  give  for  its 
loss?  Did  he  not  claim  he  had  been  drugged?"  Moth  asked, 
looking  toward  the  jury  rather  than  at  the  witness. 

"He  did;  and  what  he  claimed  I  verily  believe,"  Mr.  Sey- 
mour answered,  with  great  promptness. 

"I  did  not  ask  you  what  you  believed;  it  is  of  no  conse- 
quence, either  here  or  elsewhere.  The  prisoner  lives  with 
you,  I  understand,  and  pays  you  for  his  board  and  lodging, 
and  naturally,  and  because  of  this,  you  would  believe  anything 
he  said,"  Moth  answered,  addressing  the  jury. 

"I  call  on  the  court  to  protect  me  from  the  insinuations 
of  this  mountebank,"  Mr.  Seymour  cried,  very  red  in  the 
face,  turning  to  the  judge. 

"I  call  on  the  court  to  fine  and  imprison  the  witness  for  the 
use  of  an  epithet  so  uncalled  for  and  so  little  in  harmony  with 
the  dignity  of  the  place  and  the  honorable  judge  and  jury," 
Moth  answered,  loudly,  and  as  if  grieved  and  humiliated 
beyond  expression. 

"The  attorney  for  the  state  will  go  on  with  the  case,  con- 
fining himself  to  its  merits  and  the  evidence  in  hand,"  Judge 
Douglas  commanded,  addressing  Moth. 

"The  witness  having  testified  to  the  truth  of  what  we  look 
to  to  prove  the  guilt  of  the  prisoner,  I  have,  your  honor,  no 
further  questions  to  ask  him,"  Moth  concluded. 

Upon  Mr.  Promb's  intimating  that  he  did  not  desire  to 


Job  Throckmorton's  Trial :    The  Tragedy      311 

cross-examine  Mr.  Seymour,  Moth  asked  that  Mr.  Philetus 
Tipps  be  called. 

This  gentleman,  who  sat  near  Moth,  arose  upon  his  name 
being  thus  announced,  and  doing  so  lifted  his  eyes,  as  if  to 
economize  time  in  taking  the  oath,  in  pursuance  of  a  habit  long 
acquired.  Mr.  Tipps'  presence  was  not  commanding,  though 
a  tuft  of  hair  standing  upright  on  the  edge  of  his  narrow  fore- 
head served  to  augment  his  height  and  add  to  the  dignity  of  his 
manner;  it  also  gave  him  a  somewhat  fierce  look,  in  which  an 
air  of  alertness  blended.  Altogether  his  manner  conveyed  an 
idea  of  weariness,  as  if  he  were  going  through  a  ceremony 
often  repeated  and  of  little  or  no  interest  to  him  in  the  first 
instance.  Contrary  to  what  one  would  suppose  of  a  person 
performing  the  office  of  constable,  Mr.  Tipps'  body  was 
nothing  to  speak  of,  being  so  slight  that  he  might  easily  have 
slipped  between  the  rails  of  a  common  fence  without  injury  to 
his  raiment.  This,  however,  did  not  apply  to  his  feet,  which 
were  much  spread  abroad,  as  if  by  long  waiting  and  standing 
about  the  corridors  of  justice.  It  was  also  a  peculiarity  of 
Mr.  Tipps  that  in  raising  his  eyes  to  take  the  oath  he  did  not 
look  upward,  but  at  an  angle,  as  if  the  Being  he  appealed  to 
dwelt  somewhere  on  the  horizon.  This,  however,  was  a  device 
merely,  it  was  apparent,  to  save  labor  and  conserve  his 
strength,  and  not  at  all  as  indicating  the  presence  of  the 
Deity  in  that  particular  place.  Of  these  interesting  details 
Moth  took  no  account,  but  taking  the  witness  in  hand,  as  if 
he  were  a  lemon  or  pomegranate  ripe  for  squeezing,  demanded 
of  him,  in  a  peremptory  way: 

"What  is  your  name  and  residence?" 

"Philetus  Tipps,  of  Rock  Island." 

"What  is  your  business?" 

"Constable." 

"Have  you  been  looking  up  evidence  in  the  case  of  the 
State  versus  Throckmorton?" 

"I  have." 

"In  such  investigation  have  you  discovered  evidence  of 


The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

the  presence  of  chloroform  in  the  office  of  Throckmorton 
&  Rathe,  and  likely  to  have  been  there  on  the  night  of  the 
robbery?" 

"I  have,"  Tipps  answered. 

"In  what  shape,  may  I  ask?" 

"In  the  shape  of  a  bottle  partly  filled  with  that  substance.  " 

"Indeed!  Where,  may  I  ask,  did  you  discover  this  bottle?" 
Moth  inquired,  as  if  hearing  of  it  now  for  the  first  time. 

"I  found  it  hidden  away  under  the  stairway  off  the  room 
in  which  Throckmorton  slept  on  the  night  of  the  robbery." 

"Have  you  the  bottle  with  you?" 

"I  have." 

"I  ask  that  you  deliver  it  to  the  clerk  of  the  court";  and 
upon  his  complying,  Moth  turned  to  the  judge,  saying  he  had 
no  further  questions  to  ask  the  witness.  Cross-examination 
being  waived,  as  in  the  case  of  Mr.  Seymour,  Moth  asked  that 
Augustus  Collygog  be  called,  which  being  done  that  gentleman 
stepped  forward  to  be  sworn.  Mr.  Collygog  was  a  slender, 
clerical  man,  with  pale  face  and  considerable  particularity  of 
dress,  having  about  him  the  look  of  one  accustomed  to  handle 
delicate  things,  and  such  as  might  on  occasion  pertain  to 
men's  lives  or  matters  of  that  nature.  When  he  had  taken 
the  oath,  which  he  did  solemnly  and  as  if  determined  to  be 
strictly  accurate  in  all  he  said,  Moth  asked : 

"You  are  a  druggist,  are  you  not?" 

"Yes,  sir,  a  druggist;  or,  excuse  me,  more  appropriately 
speaking,  perhaps,  an  apothecary,"  Mr.  Collygog  replied, 
without' relaxing  the  fixed  expression  of  his  face. 

"You  keep  a  drugstore?" 

"Ha!  yes,  a  drugstore;  or,  you  will  excuse  me,  sir,  more 
properly  a  pharmacy,"  he  answered,  nursing  the  feeble 
whiskers  that  grew  on  his  sunken  cheeks. 

"Where  is  your  place?" 

"In  Appletop,  sir,  and  directly  over  the  way,  facing  the 
Galena  road,  if  you  please,  and  convenient  from  every  part 
of  the  city." 


Job  Throckmorton's  Trial:    The  Tragedy      313 

"You  fill  prescriptions  and  orders  for  medicine  and  things 
of  that  kind?"  Moth  asked. 

"Yes,  and  a  very  delicate  duty  and  requiring  circumspec- 
tion. Yes,  certainly,  requiring  circumspection — and  much 
experience,"  Mr.  Collygog  replied,  as  if  deriving  great  per- 
sonal satisfaction  from  what  he  said. 

"Will  you  look  at  the  bottle  partly  filled  with  chloroform, 
in  the  possession  of  the  clerk  of  the  court,  and  tell  me  if  it 
was  put  up  at  your  shop?" 

"Yes,  to  be  sure,  at  my  pharmacy,  if  you  please,"  the 
witness  answered,  after  carefully  examining  the  bottle  from 
different  points  of  view. 

"You  are  sure?"  Moth  asked,  sternly. 

"Oh,  dear  me,  yes,  quite  sure!  The  bottle  bears  my 
label,  as  you  may  see:  'Doctor  Augustus  Collygog,  Pharma- 
cist and  Dealer  in  Surgical  Instruments  and  Small  Notions, 
Appletop,  Illinois.'  ' 

"Who  procured  it  of  you?"  Moth  asked. 

"Who?  Oh,  excuse  me,  sir;  but  the  secrets  of  the  pro- 
fession are  sacred — sacred,  sir." 

At  this  Moth  turned  to  the  judge,  but  the  latter,  not  wait- 
ing, said: 

"The  witness  must  answer  the  question." 

"Thank  you,  Judge,  if  I  must;  but  only  on  compulsion." 

"Well,  who  was  it?"  Moth  asked,  impatiently. 

"Ha!  yes.  Who  was  what?"  Doctor  Collygog  answered, 
losing  the  thread  of  the  examination. 

"Who  was  it  that  bought  the  stuff  of  you?"  Moth  screamed 
at  the  top  of  his  voice. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  understand;  but  not  quite  so  loud,  if  you 
please,  sir.  It  was  Mr.  Job  Throckmorton." 

"That  will  do.  If  you  please,  your  honor,  the  state  rests 
here,  confident  of  having  proven  its  case  and  steadfastly 
believing  in  the  intelligence  of  the  honorable  jury  called  to 
pass  upon  the  testimony.  Indeed,  it  is  so  plain,  that  I  should 
waste  your  time  with  explanations.  Having  bought  the 


314  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

chloroform  and  sprinkled  it  about  his  bed,  Throckmorton  hid 
what  remained.  Through  the  happy  chance  of  finding  the 
half-filled  bottle  where  he  placed  it,  however,  the  whole 
scheme  is  made  clear,  and  his  identity  as  the  robber  proven 
beyond  the  shadow  of  a  doubt." 

Upon  Moth's  concluding,  Mr.  Promb  arose,  and  facing 
the  last  witness,  asked: 

"When  did  Mr.  Throckmorton  procure  this  medicine  of 
you?" 

"Yes,  Mr.  Promb.  Let  me  see;  in  September,  I  think,  or 
possibly — I  do  not  say  positively — in  the  fore  part  of  October. 
The  books  of  My  House  will  show." 

"Did  he  say  what  he  wanted  it  for?" 

"I  think  not;  but  indeed  I  might  be  mistaken  in  this,  it 
not  being  thought  material  in  his  case,  he  being  a  man  grown 
and  responsible." 

"Did  he  not  say  it  was  for  his  nephew,  who  was  ill  at  the 
Dragon?" 

"Ha!  I  think  not,  Mr.  Promb;  but,  dear  me,  I  can't  be 
certain,  as  I  have  just  said." 

'•'That  is  all.  May  it  please  your  honor,  we  should  like  to 
have  Mr.  Seymour  recalled";  and  upon  this  being  done,  Mr. 
Promb  asked : 

"Do  you  recognize  this  bottle?" 

"I  do,"  answered  Mr.  Seymour. 

"For  what  purpose  did  Mr.  Throckmorton  procure  the 
chloroform  it  contains?" 

"For  his  nephew,  then  sick  at  my  house." 

"Was  it  so  used?"  Mr.  Promb  asked. 

"It  was,  to  my  personal  knowledge." 

"When?" 

"About  the  time  stated  by  Mr.  Collygog. " 

After  this,  Mr.  Promb  recalled  Tipps,  who  arose,  with  hand 
uplifted  and  eyes  raised  obliquely  as  before,  but  nothing 
came  of  his  re-examination.  After  him  many  other  men,  all 
reputable  and  of  good  standing  in  the  community,  were  sum- 


Job  Throckmorton's  Trial:    The  Tragedy      315 

moned  by  Mr.  Promb  to  prove  the  prisoner's  high  character; 
and  with  this,  and  a  fine  speech,  but  lacking  force,  I  thought, 
Uncle  Job's  attorney  closed  the  defense.  Upon  this,  Moth 
asked  that  Mr.  Seymour  be  recalled,  and  when  this  had 
been  done,  he  asked: 

"After  the  recovery  of  Mr.  Throckmorton's  nephew,  what 
was  done  with  the  bottle  of  chloroform?" 

"I  do  not  know." 

"Who  would  know?"  Moth  asked. 

"The  servants,  or  perhaps  my  daughter." 

"That  is  all,"  Moth  responded;  "I  desire  that  Miss  Con- 
stance Seymour  be  called,  your  honor." 

She  not  moving,  nor  seeming  able  to  move,  her  father 
went  to  her,  and  taking  her  hand,  led  her  forward,  speaking 
encouragingly  as  they  made  their  way  through  the  crowded 
room. 

"What  is  your  name?"  Moth  asked,  upon  her  being  sworn. 

"Constance  Seymour." 

"Do  you  recognize  this  bottle,  Miss  Constance?"  Moth 
asked,  and  with  every  show  of  gentleness  and  respect,  I  am 
bound  to  say,  for  which  I  could  not  help  but  feel  grateful  to 
the  scoundrel. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"What  was  done  with  it  after  Gilbert  Holmes'  illness?" 
Moth  asked. 

To  this  Constance  did  not  reply,  nor  would  she  until  Judge 
Douglas,  leaning  forward,  said,  with  a  smile  of  encourage- 
ment, that  she  must  answer  the  question. 

"I  placed  it  in  Mr.  Throckmorton's  room,"  she  replied 
at  last,  "trembling,  and  scarce  above  a  whisper. 

"You  placed  it  in  Mr.  Throckmorton's  room?  Thank 
you;  that  will  do,"  Moth  said,  looking  toward  the  jury,  as  if 
they  must  certainly  now  confirm  his  belief  that  he  had  proven 
Uncle  Job's  guilt  beyond  the  shadow  of  a  doubt.  "Your 
honor,  I  submit  the  case  without  further  statement,"  he  went 
on,  "having  fully  proven  that  Throckmorton  is  the  thief,  and 


316  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

no  one  else";  saying  which,  he  bowed  and  sank  into  his  seat 
with  a  complacent  smile. 

Upon  this  Mr.  Promb  conferred  for  a  long  while  with 
Uncle  Job,  urging  upon  him  something  he  would  by  no  means 
consent  to,  but  of  what  nature  I  could  not  tell.  Afterward, 
turning  to  the  judge,  he  said: 

"The  defense  also  rests  its  case  here,  desiring  only  to 
point  out  to  the  honorable  court  and  jury  that  in  all  his  life, 
and  in  every  affair  of  business  in  which  he  has  been  engaged, 
and  they  have  been  many,  Mr.  Throckmorton  has  borne  an 
honorable  character  before  men,  no  shadow  of  any  kind  rest- 
ing upon  it.  We  hold,  and  in  this  we  believe  the  jury  will 
agree,  that  because  of  his  good  name  and  unimpeachable 
integrity  it  is  impossible  he  could  have  committed  the  crime 
imputed  to  him.  There  is  a  mystery  connected  with  the  case, 
we  admit,  that  we  cannot  now  fathom,  but  feel  assured  that 
time  will  do  this,  and  ere  long,  and  to  your  entire  satisfaction 
and  that  of  the  community.  In  the  confident  belief  that  this 
is  so,  he  throws  himself  upon  your  mercy,  believing  that  the 
knowledge  you  have  of  men  and  how  little  likely  they  are  to 
go  wrong  when  all  their  lives  have  been  animated  by  honor- 
able acts,  will  be  found  sufficient  to  justify  his  acquittal — nay, 
to  command  it  of  you  as  a  right." 

The  trial  being  thus  closed,  Judge  Douglas  arose  to  charge 
the  jury,  and  doing  so,  pointed  out  that  they  must  be  gov- 
erned in  all  things  by  the  testimony,  but  that  if  adverse  to 
the  prisoner,  his  previous  good  character  might  of  right  be 
considered  in  fixing  the  sentence  or  in  considering  any  plea 
for  mercy  the  jury  might  think  fit  to  make. 

Being  thus  instructed,  the  jury  retired,  no  one  in  the  room 
leaving  or  making  any  move  to  do  so.  Such  as  had  been 
thoughtful  enough  to  bring  their  lunch,  ate  it,  chatting  the 
while,  yet  never,  except  for  a  moment,  taking  their  eyes  off 
the  sad  face  of  the  accused,  who  sat  during  this  trying 
time,  much  cast  down,  it  was  apparent,  at  the  desperate 
strait  in  which  he  found  himself.  Thus  half  an  hour 


Job  Throckmorton's  Trial:    The  Tragedy       317 

passed,  when  word  came  that  the  jury  had  agreed  upon 
a  verdict.  At  this,  Judge  Douglas  resumed  his  seat  and 
motioned  for  the  jury  to  be  brought  in.  As  the  twelve  men 
filed  into  the  room,  I  scanned  them  one  by  one  to  see  if 
I  might  find  some  hopeful  sign,  but  unavailingly.  For,  as  if 
having  an  unpleasant  duty  to  perform,  the  face  of  each  was 
filled  with  perplexity  and  regret,  nor  did  any  one  of  them  look 
toward  Uncle  Job.  At  this,  and  arguing  from  it  that  he  was 
lost,  I  sprang  up,  and  throwing  my  arms  about  his  neck, 
screamed  at  the  top  of  my  voice: 

"He's  innocent!  He's  innocent!  I  know  he's  innocent!" 
Upon  this  a  great  commotion  arose,  the  whole  audience 
getting  to  their  feet,  the  better  to  see  the  prisoner  and  learn 
the  cause  of  the  disturbance.  In  the  midst  of  this,  and  while 
the  sobs  of  Miss  Betty  and  Constance  could  be  plainly  heard, 
a  great  noise  arose  at  the  entrance  to  the  court,  and  this 
growing  louder  and  being  accompanied  by  cries  and  oaths, 
every  one  turned  to  see  what  it  was  all  about.  This  I  did 
not  regard,  until  Uncle  Job,  standing  up,  cried  out:  "My 
God,  Rathe!"  Then  looking  up,  I  saw  Fox  and  Blott,  and 
back  of  them  Mr.  Hayward  and  the  landlord  of  the  Eagle's 
Nest  dragging  and  pushing  Rathe  forward  into  the  room. 
Bringing  him  bound  to  the  table  about  which  the  lawyers  sat, 
Fox  stepped  aside  and  whispered  to  Uncle  Job,  Mr.  Promb 
joining  them.  While  this  was  occurring,  the  jury  stood  still, 
not  understanding  in  the  least  what  it  meant.  Nor  the  judge 
any  more  than  they;  and  at  last,  leaning  forward  somewhat 
impatiently,  he  commanded  the  bailiff  to  enforce  order  in  the 
court.  Moth,  all  this  while,  had  not  stirred,  but  suspecting 
what  was  about  to  happen,  the  color  left  his  face  and  he  half 
arose  to  his  feet.  Never  have  I  seen  a  man  more  disturbed, 
but  whether  his  passions  were  directed  toward  Rathe  or  Uncle 
Job  I  could  not  tell;  nor  did  it  matter.  When  some  order 
had  been  secured,  Mr.  Promb  turned  to  the  court,  and  in  a 
voice  he  could  scarce  make  heard,  so  greatly  was  he  moved, 
said: 


318  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"May  it  please  the  court,  we  beg  in  the  interest  of  justice 
that  the  case  of  the  State  versus  Throckmorton  be  reopened, 
as  we  have  important  evidence  to  present,  not  before  obtain- 
able." 

"What  is  the  nature  of  the  evidence?"  Judge  Douglas 
asked,  evidently  at  a  loss  to  understand  the  meaning  of  what 
had  occurred. 

"We  have  here  in  the  person  of  Rathe  one  of  the  men  who 
committed  the  robbery,  Mr.  Throckmorton  not  being  in  any 
way  concerned  in  it,  as  we  have  claimed  all  along,  and  are 
now  able  to  prove." 

"I  protest,  your  honor,"  Moth  cried,  springing  to  his 
feet.  "This  is  a  conspiracy  of  robbers  to  ruin  an  honest  man 
and  liberate  a  rogue,  and  nothing  else.  A  reward  is  out  for 
the  man  Fox  there  for  highway  robbery.  He  is  nothing  but 
a  common  bandit,  and  I  call  on  the  court  to  arrest  him  here 
and  now." 

"We  will  attend  to  that  presently,  Mr.  Moth,"  Judge 
Douglas  remarked,  holding  up  his  hand  to  enforce  silence. 
"Meantime,  Mr.  Promb,  the  court  and  jury  will  hear  any  tes- 
timony you  may  have  to  offer,  if  it  is  material,  as  you  say." 

"It  is  material,  your  honor;  indeed,  proves  the  innocence 
of  the  prisoner  at  the  bar.  In  pursuance  of  our  just  rights  in 
the  matter,  therefore,  I  desire  that  Mr.  George  Fox  be  called 
to  testify." 

No  further  objection  being  offered,  the  latter  stepping 
forward  and  being  sworn,  Mr.  Promb  went  on: 

"Now  tell  the  judge  and  jury,  if  you  please,  all  you  know 
about  this  case,  and  who  it  was  that  took  the  money  Mr. 
Throckmorton  is  accused  of  stealing.' 

"It  is  this  way,  your  honor,"  Fox  went  on.  "Believing 
from  information  I  had  picked  up  that  Rathe  and  the  outlaw 
Burke  were  implicated  in  the  theft,  I  said  as  much  to  these 
gentlemen  with  me,  telling  them,  upon  their  expressing  disbe- 
lief, that  I  would  prove  what  I  affirmed  if  they  would  go  with 
me,  and  this  before  they  should  be  called  upon  to  act  in  any 


Job  Throckmorton's  Trial:    The  Tragedy      319 

manner.  Upon  their  consenting,  we  secured  a  boat,  and  last 
night  dropped  down  the  river  to  Black  Hawk's  abandoned 
hut,  where  I  had  reason  to  believe  the  thieves  were  to  divide 
the  proceeds  of  the  robbery.  Secreting  ourselves  where  we 
could  see  and  hear  all  that  occurred,  we  had  not  long  to  wait 
before  Burke  appeared,  and  presently  Rathe.  Lighting 
a  candle,  Burke  produced  the  very  packages  of  money  which 
Mr.  Throckmorton  is  accused  of  stealing.  When,  however, 
he  was  about  to  open  them  for  the  purpose  of  dividing  the 
plunder,  Rathe,  who  stood  somewhat  in  the  shade,  drew 
a  pistol  and  fired  upon  him.  Burke  had  not  noticed  the 
motion,  and  when  the  ball  struck  him,  staggered  and  partly 
fell.  Not  being  wholly  disabled,  he  gave  a  cry  and  rushed 
upon  Rathe,  but  the  latter  evading  him,  drew  a  huge  knife 
and  plunged  it  to  the  hilt  in  his  breast.  At  this  Burke  threw 
up  his  hands  with  a  groan  and  fell  to  the  floor  dead.  All  this 
we  saw,  and  rushing  into  the  room,  overcame  Rathe,  but  too 
late  to  save  Burke.  In  proof  of  all  I  say,  your  honor,  here 
are  the  witnesses  and  there  the  packages  of  money,  and  the 
knife  with  which  Rathe  killed  Burke";  saying  which,  Fox  laid 
the  money  on  the  table  before  him,  placing  the  bowie-knife, 
the  blade  of  which  was  black  with  clotted  blood,  beside  it. 
"We  expected,  your  honor,"  Fox  went  on,  as  he  stepped  back, 
"to  have  reached  here  before  the  trial,  but  the  river  being  full 
of  ice,  were  prevented." 

Moth  waiving  cross-examination,  Mr.  Promb  called  Mr. 
Hayward,  who  confirmed  Fox's  account,  after  which  he 
turned  to  the  judge,  saying  the  defense  had  no  further  testi- 
mony to  offer.  Upon  this  Judge  Douglas  turned  to  Moth  and 
asked  if  he  desired  to  question  the  witness,  or  had  any  evi- 
dence to  present.  To  this  Moth  only  shook  his  head,  not 
taking  his  eyes  off  Rathe.  For  it  was  apparent  he  had  believed 
Uncle  Job  guilty,  and  what  he  now  heard  fell  upon  him  like 
a  stroke  from  heaven,  as  his  face  clearly  showed.  Judge 
Douglas,  upon  this,  turned  to  the  jury,  saying  they  must  con- 
sider the  new  evidence  with  the  old;  but  they,  not  moving, 


3-2O  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

and  all  looking  toward  Uncle  Job,  spoke  up  as  with  one  voice: 
"Nor  GUILTY." 

Bowing  to  Uncle  Job  and  smiling,  Judge  Douglas  dis- 
missed him,  ordering  at  the  same  time  that  Rathe  be  removed 
to  the  jail  to  await  commitment  and  trial.  At  this  the  latter, 
who  had  not  moved,  took  a  step  forward,  and  facing  the 
judge,  bowed,  saying,  as  if  speakng  of  some  commonplace 
occurrence : 

"I  admit  all  that  has  been  said,  your  honor.  There  was 
not  enough  for  two,  and  so  I  killed  Burke,  and  a  good  riddance 
it  is  to  the  community.  I  am  only  sorry,  however,  that  it 
was  not  the  pious  Throckmorton  instead,"  he  added,  turning 
and  looking  at  Uncle  Job.  "Burke  deserved  death,  but  not 
more  than  I,  you  will  say,  and  truly  enough.  I  intended  to 
kill  him  when  I  went  to  the  cabin,  and  in  this  way,  to  illus- 
trate, your  honor,  and  quite  simply,"  Rathe  went  on,  taking 
up  the  knife  with  both  hands,  his  arms  being  only  loosely  tied. 
"As  he  came  toward  me,  the  pistol-shot  not  proving  effec- 
tive, I  drew  my  knife,  and  raising  it  the  full  length  of  my  arm, 
buried  it  to  the  hilt  in  his  bosom,  like  this";  and  as  he  con- 
cluded, and  looking  the  judge  calmly  in  the  face,  he  plunged 
the  weapon  to  the  handle  in  his  own  heart. 

At  first  the  lookers-on  thought  he  was  acting,  but  when, 
after  a  moment,  he  wavered  and  fell  full  length  on  the  floor, 
there  was  a  cry  of  horror  from  all  present,  many  women  faint- 
ing, and  the  men  staring,  not  knowing  what  to  make  of  it. 


When  some  time  had  elapsed  and  the  dead  body  of  Rathe 
had  been  removed  and  order  had  been  restored,  Moth  arose, 
and  turning  to  the  judge,  said: 

"I  call  upon  the  court  before  it  adjourns  to  order  the 
arrest  of  the  man  Fox  for  highway  robbery." 

At  this,  Fox,  who  was  standing  within  the  inclosure,  turned 
to  the  judge  and  said: 

"May  it  please  your  honor,  I  admit  all  this  man  may  say, 


Job  Throckmorton's  Trial:    The  Tragedy      321 

not  denying  anything,  and  beg  that  I  may  be  tried  here  and 
now,  and  by  the  present  jury." 

To  this  Judge  Douglas  demurred,  but  after  reflecting  upon 
it  for  a  while  and  conferring  with  the  jury,  he  turned  to  Moth 
and  said : 

"You  hear  his  admission,  Mr.  Moth?  Are  you  ready  to  go 
on  with  the  case,  as  he  suggests?  If  so,  I  can  see  no  legal 
objection." 

"It  is  what  I  desire  above  all  things,  your  honor,"  Moth 
answered,  in  a  sober  way.  "The  man  should  be  in  the  peni- 
tentiary, and  the  sooner  he  is  sent  there  the  better  for  the 
community." 

"Then  the  trial  may  proceed.  Bailiff,  conduct  the  pris- 
oner to  the  bar,"  Judge  Douglas  ordered. 

When  this  had  been  done  and  the  jury  again  sworn,  Judge 
Douglas  motioned  Moth  to  proceed.  This  he  did,  after  tak- 
ing the  oath,  recounting  at  length  and  with  great  particularity, 
the  attempt  to  rob  him,  and  Fox's  mishap  and  final  discomfit- 
ure and  imprisonment.  When  he  had  finished,  Fox,  standing 
up  and  declining  counsel,  turned  to  the  judge,  and  said: 

"What  this  man  says,  your  honor,  is  true,  save,  perhaps, 
a  propensity  natural  to  him  to  exaggerate.  I,  however,  did 
not  seek  to  injure  him,  and  at  the  time  he  speaks  of  he  was 
himself  striving  to  unlawfully  kidnap  this  friendless  youth, 
except  for  whom  Rathe  would  now  be  at  liberty  and  Mr. 
Throckmorton  a  convicted  criminal,"  saying  which,  Fox 
stepped  back  and  put  his  arm  about  my  neck.  "This  does- 
not  excuse  my  crime,  I  know.  I  only  claim  Moth  was  not 
harmed  at  my  hands,  either  in  body  or  purse.  My  former  law- 
less way  of  life  I  have  abandoned,  as  I  can  prove,  though  it 
was  more  foolish  than  harmful.  Folly,  your  honor,  comes 
natural  to  me,  crime  does  not.  I  played  robber,  and  thought 
I  was  one,  when  in  fact  I  was  only  an  ass.  No  one  here  or 
elsewhere  has  ever  been  harmed  by  me.  I  am  no  one's 
enemy  but  my  own.  Against  my  manhood  and  knowledge  of 
right  I  sinned,  and  sinning  have  paid  the  penalty  by  outlawry. 


j 22  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

Moth's  complaint  against  me  is  at  best  a  moral  one  only. 
I  regret  it,  however,  and  would  undo  it  if  I  could,  but  cannot, 
though  I  repent  in  sackcloth  and  ashes.  Such  are  the  facts, 
your  honor  and  gentlemen.  I  do  not  claim  I  am  what  I  should 
be.  Nor  was  this  man,  a  self-confessed  kidnaper,  and  that 
against  the  weak  and  unfriended.  Among  my  sins,  your 
honor,  I  have  not  such  a  one  to  answer  for.  I  ask  you,  gen- 
tlemen, to  judge  between  us.  Look  in  his  face  and  mine,  and 
say  if  in  your  hearts  you  think  him  the  more  honest.  If  so, 
then  convict  me;  if  not,  be  lenient.  My  life  is  harassed  by 
him  beyond  endurance,  and  I  cannot  mend  until  I  shake  him 
off.  The  worst  I  can  suffer  will  be  better  than  the  present. 
He  was  not  robbed  by  me,  nor  did  I  seek  to  cripple  or  kill 
him,  either  of  which  things  I  might  have  done  had  I  wished. 
That  is  all  I  have  to  say,  your  honor,  and  concluding,  I  put 
myself  in  your  hands,  craving  forgiveness  and  mercy  of  all 
men";  saying  which,  Fox  sat  down  and  buried  his  face  in  his 
hands,  overcome  by  his  agitation  and  shame. 

When  he  was  through,  and  Moth  making  no  move,  Judge 
Douglas  turned  to  the  jury  and  s;aid:  . 

"You  have  heard  the  evidence.  If  a  crime  has  been  com- 
mitted, it  is  not  denied.  You  may  retire." 

This  they  did  in  a  scramble,  but  scarcely  had  the  door 
closed  than  it  flew  open  again  and  they  filed  out,  but  not  now 
with  doleful  faces,  as  before. 

"Have  you  reached  a  verdict?"  Judge  Douglas  asked,  not 
showing  any  surprise  at  their  quick  return. 

"We  have,  your  honor,"  answered  the  foreman. 

"What  is  it?" 

"We  find  the  prisoner  not  guilty." 

"Mr.  Fox,  you  are  at  liberty.  The  court  stands  adjourned"; 
saying  which,  Judge  Douglas  arose,  and  coming  forward,  con- 
gratulated Fox  and  Uncle  Job  in  the  most  kindly  manner  on 
their  happy  deliverance.  Afterward  turning  to  Moth  and 
taking  his  hand,  he  greeted  him  with  the  utmost  cordiality, 
^t  which  I  wondered  with  open  mouth. 


Job  Throckmorton's  Trial:    The  Tragedy      323 

When  the  trials  were  thus  concluded,  Uncle  Job  put  his  arm 
about  Fox,  the  two  leaving  the  room  together;  but  not  with- 
out much  difficulty,  for  at  every  step  they  were  made  to  stop 
and  receive  the  congratulations  of  those  present.  For  of  all 
who  were  critical  and  cold  before,  not  one  but  now  vied  with  his 
neighbor  in  grasping  and  holding  the  hands  of  the  two  gen- 
tlemen as  they  passed,  giving  them  at  last  a  mighty  cheer  as 
they  disappeared  through  the  door.  Mr.  Seymour,  staying 
behind,  collected  our  friends  and  saviors,  and  with  Judge 
Douglas  we  all  went  to  the  Dragon  together,  where  Uncle  Job 
and  Fox  had  already  arrived.  Here  a  table  was  soon  spread, 
Miss  Betty  and  Constance  and  Setti  and  I  waiting  upon  the 
guests,  and  this  with  such  love  and  throbbing  hearts  as  I  am 
sure  never  beat  in  the  breasts  of  servitors  before. 


Of  the  particulars  of  the  crime  for  which  Uncle  Job  was 
tried,  we  learned  in  part  later.  It  was  the  sight  of  the 
bottle  of  chloroform  in  his  room  at  the  Dragon  that  sug- 
gested the  conspiracy  to  Rathe,  a  movable  panel  fixed  in  the 
stairway  beside  the  cot  in  the  office  being  the  means  employed 
afterward  for  getting  at  Uncle  Job  without  entering  the  place 
where  he  lay  asleep.  When  these  preliminaries  had  been 
arranged,  Rathe  waited  for  an  opportunity,  which  he  knew, 
from  Uncle  Job's  business,  would  not  be  long  in  coming.  Of 
the  villain  Rathe  and  his  previous  life  we  never  found  out 
anything,  for  among,  his  effects  there  was  no  scrap  affording 
clew  to  his  parentage  or  country,  unless,  indeed,  a  sheet  of 
paper  in  his  box,  on  which  there  was  a  coat-of-arms,  with 
the  legend  "  Super  amus  eos  qui  oppugnant  aut  mortmur,"  might 
have  a'fforded  such  a  clew. 


CHAPTER   XLI 

THE    REUNION 

The  next  day  being  Christmas,  Mr.  Seymour  gave  a  dinner 
party  for  twelve,  the  guests  of  honor  being  Miss  Betty  and 
Uncle  Job.  Such  things  were  common  with  the  landlord  of 
the  Dragon,  and  this,  too,  notwithstanding  the  marked  disap- 
proval of  many  good  people  in  Appletop,  who  looked  upon 
them  as  frivolous  innovations,  and  therefore  likely  to  lead  to 
harm.  Mr.  Seymour,  however,  maintained  that  the  practice 
was  a  good  one,  and  this  in  the  face  of  all,  on  the  ground  that 
the  custom  was  old,  and  one,  moreover,  he  had  been  used  to 
in  his  own  country.  It  was  his  habit  to  celebrate  every  nota- 
ble event  with  a  dinner,  in  which  more  or  less  formality  was 
observed.  It  was  this  last  feature,  the  outgrowth  of  Effete 
and  Worn-out  Usages  of  the  Old  World,  that  threatened,  it 
was  believed,  to  bring  our  Institutions  into  Disrepute,  if  not 
Open  Ridicule,  among  the  Young  and  Thoughtless.  As  Mr. 
Seymour  was  greatly  beloved,  however,  this  displeasure  did 
not  go  to  the  length  of  any  formal  protest,  but  confined  itself 
to  furtive  remarks  and  other  expressions  more  or  less  open. 

Outside  these  special  events,  it  was  also  his  habit  to  give 
a  dinner  on  all  the  great  days  of  the  year,  such  as  Christmas 
and  the  like,  but  usually  not  more  than  two  or  three  guests 
were  invited  on  such  occasions.  The  dinner  now  to  be  given, 
however,  was  intended  to  surpass  all  others  in  the  number  of 
guests,  if  not  in  its  other  appointments,  and  this  because  of 
the  conjunction  of  notable  events  it  was  designed  to  com- 
memorate. Thus,  the  day  being  Christmas,  it  was  one  of 
feasting,  and  then,  too,  it  was  intended  to  fittingly  celebrate 
Uncle  Job's  reentry  into  the  world.  Moreover,  the  announce- 


The  Reunion  325 

tnent  of  his  betrothal  to  Miss  Betty  Singleton  was  here  to  be 
made  for  the  first  time.  This  last  not  all  the  guests  knew 
about  in  advance,  so  that  it  came  to  them  in  the  nature  of 
a  happy  surprise.  Altogether  the  dinner  was  on  a  great  scale 
for  Appletop,  and  considering,  too,  the  limited  time  allowed 
for  its  preparation.  In  the  new  country,  however,  wild  game 
of  every  kind  and  delicacy  was  plentiful,  and  this  was  made 
the  chief  feature  of  the  occasion.  Other  necessary  things 
more  difficult  to  obtain  Mr.  Seymour  was  in  the  habit  of  col- 
lecting at  his  leisure  and  unknown  to  the  purveyors  of  the 
town.  These  supplemented  the  substantial  things  I  have 
mentioned,  and  in  extent  and  delicacy  were  such  as  one  would 
hardly  have  believed  possible  in  so  remote  a  country.  It  fell 
out,  therefore,  and  because  every  resource  was  taxed  to  the 
utmost,  that  the  event  was  a  notable  one,  as  our  host  intended 
it  should  be.  This,  however,  was  not  by  any  means  trumpeted 
abroad,  lest  it  should  increase  the  growing  Unrest,  as  I  have 
said,  in  respect  to  such  Trivial  Matters. 

Another  thing  I  may  mention  that  adde  to  the  disquiet 
with  which  Mr.  Seymour's  dinners  were  viewed  was  the  fact 
that  Wine  was  served,  although  sparingly,  it  was  claimed,  by 
the  more  conservative  among  his  friends.  The  practice,  how- 
ever, was  thought  to  be  Bacchanalian  in  Its  Tendency  and 
likely  to  encourage  Habits  of  Intemperance  in  the  Young,  and 
because  of  this  ought  to  be  Frowned  upon  by  Every  One. 
These  objections  I  could  never  understand,  because  of  the 
great  quantities  of  whisky  and  poor  liquors  of  all  kinds  that 
were  openly  consumed  in  the  country.  This,  too,  in  reckless 
disregard  of  health  and  the  peace  of  the  community,  which 
latter  -was  often  grievously  disturbed  thereby.  In  view  of 
these  complainings,  and  it  may  be  with  some  reference  to  their 
effect  upon  the  patronage  of  the  Dragon,  such  circumspection 
was  observed  by  the  host  as  was  possible  without  interfering 
with  the  festivities  the  dinners  were  designed  to  celebrate. 

We  received  the  Singletons  in  a  body,  every  one  being  glad 
to  see  Miss  Betty  in  such  fine  color  and  without  trace  of  tears 


326  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

or  weariness  of  any  kind  to  cloud  her  fair  face.  Contrary  to- 
ner habit,  she  was  now  demure — nay,  blushing  and  shy;  at 
which  Constance  and  I  looked  at  each  other  in  surprise.  This 
being  the  first  time  I  had  seen  Mr.  Singleton  since  the  hap- 
penings on  the  steamboat,  I  was  greatly  interested  to  know 
what  kind  of  a  person  he  was,  and  in  this  was  pleasantly  sur- 
prised. For  he  proved  to  be  a  man  of  great  good  sense  and 
sprightliness  of  manner,  in  which  love  of  his  family  was  plainly 
apparent.  This  not  strangely,  for  men  of  correct  lives  and 
most  lovable  traits,  I  have  since  come  to  know,  are  often  led 
astray  as  he  had  been.  Usually,  too,  in  such  cases  it  needs 
some  shock  such  as  he  had  received  to  make  them  conscious 
of  the  outcome  that  sooner  or  later  overtakes  all  who  give 
themselves  up  unreservedly  to  play. 

Since  the  great  trial,  Uncle  Job  had  done  nothing  but 
stand  about  the  common  room  of  the  Dragon  and  receive  the 
congratulations  of  the  community,  now  as  outspoken  in  its 
good  wishes  as  it  was  for  the  moment  evasive  and  cold.  On 
the  present  occasion  he  bore  himself  like  the  fine  gentleman 
he  was,  and  when  he  offered  Mrs.  Singleton  his  arm  to  take 
her  out  to  dinner  I  thought  there  was  not  a  handsomer  man 
in  the  world,  nor  one  who  made  so  little  of  it,  either.  In  this 
belief  I  was  sure  others  of  the  company  shared,  and  more 
especially  Miss  Betty,  who  could  hardly  keep  her  eyes  off 
him,  so  great  was  her  admiration.  Seated  about  the  table 
the  faces  of  all  present,  and  more  particularly  Uncle  Job's 
and  Miss  Betty's,  evinced  the  utmost  contentment  and  happi- 
ness, and  such  altogether  as  befitted  an  occasion  so  rare  in 
their  lives.  Seeing  which,  every  one  smiled  their  approval 
and  satisfaction. 

When  the  more  serious  business  of  the  dinner  was  over, 
Mr.  Seymour  toasted  the  bride  to  be,  and  with  so  much  deli- 
cacy of  manner  and  expertness  of  speech  that  we  could  not 
take  our  eyes  off  him  for  the  surprise  of  it.  What  he  said  was 
attended  with  many  happy  blushes  on  the  part  of  Miss  Betty, 
and  afterward  by  much  hilarity  on  the  part  of  the  company, 


The  Reunion  327 

in  which  Uncle  Job  joined,  and  with  such  spirit,  too,  as  I  had 
never  seen  in  him  before.  Surely,  I  thought,  you  are  in  great 
luck,  Miss  Betty,  to  get  so  fine  a  man  for  a  husband.  Then 
Uncle  Job  was  toasted  by  Mr.  Seymour,  and  this  with  such 
elaboration  of  compliment  and  prolixity  of  happy  discourse 
that  we  thought  he  would  never  let  go  the  opportunity  to 
felicitate  the  company  and  Uncle  Job  on  the  event  we  were 
celebrating.  This  greatly  increased  the  good  feeling  of  all 
present,  and  for  a  time  there  was  such  a  bedlam  of  voices  and 
clinking  of  glasses  that  I  tiptoed  to  the  door  lest  some  ink- 
ling of  it  should  come  to  the  ears  of  the  sleeping  village. 
When  quiet  had  been  secured,  though  this  was  not  possible 
for  a  long  time,  Mr.  Seymour  turned  to  where  I  sat,  with  much 
solemnity  of  manner,  as  if  amid  all  our  joy  some  discordant 
note  had  been  struck,  saying: 

"Having  drunk  to  the  health  and  happiness  of  our  guests 
of  honor,  I  desire  in  the  most  kindly  way  to  condole  with  our 
young  friend  and  Knight  of  the  Road,  Mr.  Gilbert  Holmes." 

At  this  every  one  looked  up  in  surprise,  not  knowing  what 
he  meant,  and  for  a  time  all  conversation  ceased,  but  Mrs. 
Singleton,  presently  regaining  her  voice,  cried  out: 

"Pray,  why  should  you  condole  with  my  young  sweetheart, 
Mr.  Seymour?  What  has  he  done,  or  what  misfortune  hangs 
over  him?  I  am  sure  he  looks  as  happy  as  any  one  here." 

"That  is  true,  Mrs.  Singleton;  but  the  mercenary  element 
in  our  nature  never  shows  itself  till  we  have  had  some  experi- 
ence of  life.  Gilbert  is  no  exception  to  the  rule,  and  so  his 
dreams  are  still  undisturbed.  Give  him  time,  Mrs.  Singleton, 
give  him  time,  and  then  you  will  see  how  his  face  will  furrow 
with  anxiety  and  the  unhappiness  that  accompanies  a  discon- 
tented mind,"  Mr.  Seymour  answered,  in  his  grave,  stately 
way. 

"We  don't  understand  at  all  the  drift  of  what  you  are  say- 
ing, Mr.  Seymour,"  Mrs.  Singleton  went  on.  "Surely  we 
should  all  of  us  be  unhappy  if  a  cloud  were  to  come  between 
Gilbert  and  the  sun,  no  matter  how  small  it  might  be." 


328  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"What  is  it,  papa?  Don't  you  see  you  have  put  a  stop  to 
all  the  pleasantry  by  what  you  are  saying?"  Constance  spoke 
up,  and  with  some  irritation  of  manner,  too,  I  thought. 

"It  is  a  serious  matter,  Doll,  and  one  that  calls  for  sym- 
pathy if  not  active  aid,  and  in  this  I  know  all  will  agree,"  Mr. 
Seymour  went  on,  stopping  as  if  the  better  to  engage  attention. 

"What  is  it,  Henry,  if  you  are  at  all  in  earnest,"  Uncle 
Job  now  spoke  up,  "that  can  possibly  threaten  the  happiness 
of  one  I  love  more  than  any  one  on  earth,  except — " 

"Except  Miss  Betty,  of  course,"  Mr.  Seymour  responded, 
quietly.  "There,  don't  blush,  sweet  lady.  It  was  a  slip  of  the 
tongue,  and  excusable,  I  am  sure.  I  must  believe,  however, 
from  what  you  say,  Job,  that  you  are  something  of  a  dissem- 
bler," Mr.  Seymour  went  on;  "for  is  it  a  light  thing  to  cut  off 
a  young  man  without  a  settled  income  or  hopes  of  any  kind, 
as  you  are  preparing  to  do?  Yesterday  Gilbert  was  an  heir, 
your  expectant  heir;  now  how  does  it  stand?  Gilbert,  you 
are  undone,  and  by  your  uncle  of  all  men!" 

At  this  foolish  ending  there  was  a  roar  of  laughter,  in 
which  I  joined  more  heartily  than  any  one  else,  for  of  the 
need  of  money  I  then  knew  nothing.  I  therefore  cried  out 
with  great  cheerfulness: 

"I'm  glad  to  give  up  my  prospects  to  Miss  Betty,  for  I 
shouldn't  know  what  to  do  with  money  if  I  had  it.  Besides, 
the  ladies,  it  is  said,  are  less  able  to  get  on  without  it  than 
the  rest  of  us." 

"There  is  another  fling  at  women!"  Miss  Betty  cried, 
gayly.  "Fie,  Gilbert,  for  you  to  slur  us  when  you  know 
I  have  always  admired  you  next  to — to — " 

"Out  with  it,  Miss  Betty — next  to  Job,  of  course.  How 
slyly  they  compliment  each  other,  and  properly,  too;  but  it's 
a  toss-up  between  Job  and  Gilbert,  don't  you  think,  Con- 
stance?" Mr.  Seymour  asked,  turning  to  her. 

"Yes,  I'm  sure  it  is,  for  I  have  always  admired  Mr.  Throck- 
morton  next  to — to — Gilbert,"  Constance  replied,  with  great 
pertness,  looking  at  Miss  Betty  and  laughing. 


The  Reunion  329 

"Well,  to  straighten  it  out  and  make  every  one  happy 
again,  I  propose,  Betty,  that  we  make  him  our  joint  heir,  thus 
doubling  his  prospects,"  Uncle  Job  broke  in,  turning  to  her. 

"I  agree  to  that  with  all  my  heart,"  she  cried  in  response, 
"and  propose  we  toast  him  as  such";  and  this  every  one  at 
once  proceeded  to  do. 

"That  ought  to  be  satisfactory,  but  still  I  very  much  fear 
Gilbert's  prospects  are  in  the  dumps, ' '  Mr.  Seymour  responded, 
with  mock  gravity. 

In  this  way,  and  with  much  similar  talk  and  hilarity,  the 
evening  passed  to  the  great  enjoyment  of  every  one  present. 
Mr.  Seymour,  mindful  of  decorum,  had  named  an  early  hour 
for  the  dinner,  so  that  it  was  over  in  time  not  to  shock  the 
more  staid  of  the  community,  who  were  ever  of  the  opinion, 
in  the  infancy  of  the  republic,  that  respectability  and  good 
hours  went  hand  in  hand. 


CHAPTER   XLII 

AN  ADVENTURE 

The  next  day  we  all  met  in  the  Treasure  room  of  the 
Dragon,  but  not  altogether  by  chance  I  thought,  however  it 
might  have  appeared  at  first,  for  after  a  little  talk  about 
unimportant  things,  my  future  was  brought  up  for  discussion 
and  settlement.  Indeed,  it  was  for  this  the  meeting  had 
been  called,  and  it  would  have  gone  hard  with  me,  I  am 
convinced,  except  for  Constance  and  the  great  tact  she 
showed.  For  it  appeared  that  Uncle  Job  and  Mr.  Sey- 
mour were  both  of  the  firm  opinion  that  my  education  could 
no  longer  be  neglected,  and  this  being  so  I  must  at  once 
go  away  to  school.  Upon  their  finally  intimating  as  much,  I, 
not  knowing  what  to  say,  turned  to  Constance  and  implored 
her  by  a  look  to  come  to  my  aid.  For  to  leave  Appletop 
meant  our  parting,  and  this  I  was  now  in  no  way  inclined  to 
after  having  been  away  from  her  so  long.  Answering  my 
appeal,  the  sweet  girl  went  to  her  father,  and  placing  her  arms 
about  his  neck  in  the  most  winsome  way  you  can  imagine,  said : 

"Is  Gilbert  strong  enough  to  do  this,  papa?  See  how  pale 
he  is;  and  you  know  he  has  not  been  himself  since  that  dread- 
ful storm.  The  trial,  too,  nearly  broke  his  heart.  You 
remember  how  he  cried  out,  and  you  yourself  were  affected. 
It's  only  a  little  while,  too,  since  he  was  so  ill  and  we  thought 
he  was  going  to  die.  I  should  think  you'd  want  him  to  get 
some  strength  before  sending  him  away.  Surely  the  school 
can  wait." 

"Why,  you  little  puss,  what  do  you  know  about  Gilbert's 
health?"  Mr.  Seymour  answered,  returning  her  caress.  "You 
talk  as  wise  as  a  doctor." 

330 


An  Adventure  331 

"It  doesn't  need  a  doctor  to  tell,  papa,  for  we  all  know 
what  he  has  gone  through.  He  never  was  strong,  you  know, 
and  Fox  told  me  only  yesterday  that  they  thought  he  never 
would  come  to  that  night  at  the  Eagle's  Nest";  and  Constance 
looked  at  me  as  if  distressed  beyond  measure  at  my  uncertain 
health. 

"That  was  a  long  time  ago,  puss." 

"No,  not  a  week;  and  think  what  he's  passed  through 
before  and  since!" 

"He  will  be  all  the  better  for  going.  The  change  will  do 
him  good,"  Mr.  Seymour  answered,  toying  with  her  hair. 

"Sometime,  papa,  but  not  now.  Wait  till  he  is  strong. 
He  can  study  with  me;  why  not?" 

"Oh,  fie  on  you!  But  what  do  you  think,  Job?"  Mr.  Sey- 
mour asked  after  a  pause.  "Suppose  we  leave  it  until  another 
day.  There  is  some  sense  in  what  Kit  says,"  he  went  on, 
patting  her  cheeks.  "Gilbert  doesn't  look  very  rugged,  and 
besides  he  could  not  do  much  before  the  summer  vacation." 

"I  had  not  thought  of  his  health,"  Uncle  Job  answered, 
looking  me  over  as  one  might  a  horse  he  thought  of  running 
for  first  prize. 

"Nor  I;  but  it's  as  puss  says,  or  a  little  that  way,"  Mr. 
Seymour  answered. 

"Well,  then,  let  the  matter  drop  for  the  present,"  Uncle 
Job  responded.  "An  education  is  not  worth  much  if  one 
breaks  down  in  getting  it.  So  go  and  build  yourself  up, 
young  man,  and  we  will  talk  about  it  again." 

Thus  happily,  through  Constance's  sweet  intervention, 
I  was  granted  a  further  respite,  and  this  more  to  my  liking 
than  I  would  have  cared  to  tell,  for  I  was  now  become  greatly 
enamored  of  my  liberty,  and  thought  little  of  books,  except 
as  I  might  read  them  when  Constance  was  by. 

Being  in  this  way  freed  from  all  anxiety,  Constance  and 
I  did  not  lack  for  ways  in  which  to  pass  the  time  agreeably 
in  each  other's  company.  If  the  weather  happened  to  be  fair, 
we  rode  or  drove;  or  if  there  was  snow,  went  coasting  on  the 


332  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

bluff  back  of  the  town.  The  thing,  however,  most  to  our 
liking,  and  of  which  we  never  tired,  was  skating.  For  this 
we  went  to  the  river,  but  later,  and  best  of  all,  to  Mr.  Apple- 
top's  in  the  park  across  the  road  from  the  Dragon.  This 
gentleman,  now  very  old  and  feeble,  was  the  father  of  the 
village,  but  a  mystery  to  all  its  people,  no  one  knowing  his 
history,  he  having  come  into  the  country  while  it  was  still 
occupied  by  the  Sacs  and  Foxes.  A  wanderer  and  misan- 
thropist it  was  believed,  he  after  a  while  married  an  Indian 
woman,  and  then,  as  if  tired  of  roaming,  settled  down  a  little 
apart  from  the  tribe  in  the  house  he  still  occupied.  His  wife 
dying  about  the  time  of  Black  Hawk's  war,  he  remained  when 
the  Indians  left,  and  in  this  way  acquired  a  title  to  the  land 
upon  which  the  town  stood.  Being  improvident  and  of  care- 
less habits,  he  had  little  by  little  parted  with  all  his  holdings 
until  now  he  had  scarce  anything  left  save  the  park  wherein 
his  house  stood.  Here  he  lived  without  servants  or  compan- 
ions of  any  kind,  if  I  except  a  number  of  dogs  he  kept  about 
him,  some  of  which  were  of  good  breed,  but  in  the  main  were 
of  no  account  whatever.  Seeing  Constance  and  I  skating  one 
day  on  a  small  piece  of  ice  beside  the  road,  he  asked  us  to 
come  to  the  lake  in  his  private  grounds.  This  we  did,  to  our 
great  delight,  and  also  to  his  no  small  pleasure,  I  must  believe, 
for  he  used  to  sit  and  watch  us  and  applaud  everything  Con- 
stance did  for  hours  at  a  time. 

In  this  manner,  and  to  Constance's  and  my  great  happiness 
and  the  complete  building  up  of  my  health  then  and  for  all 
time,  the  winter  passed.  In  the  spring,  Uncle  Job  being 
away  and  having  now  no  partner,  he  made  me  his  agent 
to  look  after  the  house  he  was  building  in  expectation  of 
his  marriage.  This  I  found  greatly  to  my  liking,  for  in  the 
work  Constance  and  Miss  Betty  shared,  and  together  we  con- 
ceived many  features  in  connection  with  the  structure  not 
common  to  the  new  country,  nor  contemplated  in  the  phins 
Uncle  Job  had  drawn.  These,  it  was  found,  added  to  the 
cost,  but  he  approved  every  one  we  proposed,  claiming,  and 


An  Adventure  333 

rightly  enough,  that  they  would  cost  less  then  than  if  added 
at  a  later  period.  After  the  house  was  built,  much  time  was 
spent  in  furnishing,  trips  to  Galena  and  Chicago  being  thought 
necessary  in  order  to  make  sure  we  were  getting  the  best  of 
everything,  and  not  patterns  palmed  off  on  our  local  mer- 
chants by  the  more  fashionable  purveyors  in  the  larger  towns. 

While  thus  engaged  I  again  suddenly  changed  my  place 
of  residence  and  manner  of  living,  and  this  naturally  enough. 
For,  as  might  have  been  expected,  my  irregular  life  since 
leaving  Wild  Plum  had  made  me  impatient  to  see  something 
of  the  great  world  outside,  and  so  ready  for  any  change  that 
suggested  itself.  Of  such  things  I  often  spoke  to  Constance, 
but  not  altogether  to  her  liking,  as  I  could  plainly  see  by  the 
expression  of  her  eyes  and  more  often  by  the  tremor  of  her 
lips.  In  nothing,  however,  did  the  sweet  creature  array  her- 
self against  anything  I  proposed,  for  had  she  done  so  I  would 
have  given  it  up,  so  great  was  my  love  for  her.  Thus  we 
talked,  at  first  vaguely,  and  then  more  particularly,  but  with- 
out anything  definite,  until  one  day  we  stood  idly  watching  the 
War  Eagle  as  she  lay  moored  at  the  landing  below  Appletop, 
when  suddenly  seizing  her  hand,  I  cried  out: 

"Constance,  I'm  going  to  get  a  place  on  that  boat  if  I  can. 
It's  the  very  thing  we've  talked  about.  What  happiness  to 
ride  up  and  down  the  river  and  see  the  world,  and  earn  your 
own  living,  too!" 

At  this  outbreak  she  was  so  startled  she  could  not  speak, 
but  after  a  while,  turning  to  me  with  a  sob,  said,  and  sorrow- 
fully enough: 

"You'll  not  do  that,  Gilbert,  and  leave  your  Uncle  Job 
and — me!" 

"You,  Constance — only  you!"  I  answered.  "Uncle  Job 
has  Miss  Betty  now,  and  so  will  not  miss  me,"  I  answered. 

"Oh,  but  he  will!  Please  don't  think  of  it  any  more,  Gil- 
bert. I  should  never  see  you  again,  I  know,"  she  answered, 
taking  hold  of  my  hands. 

"Yes,  you  would,  Constance,  and  often,  too,  for  the  boat 


334  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

is  passing  here  all  the  time.  When  she  ties  up  in  the  fall, 
I  will  come  back,  and  it'll  not  be  long,  either." 

"Your  uncle  will  never  forgive  you,  Gilbert.  You  are  like 
a  son  to  him,  as  you  are  to  papa." 

"I  know,  but  I  have  got  to  make  my  way  in  the  world 
sometime,  and  why  not  now?"  I  answered. 

"Papa  and  your  Uncle  Job  will  help  you  to  do  that,  and 
be  glad  of  the  chance." 

"I  know;  but  what  more  can  they  do  than  they  have? 
And  if  I  don't  do  this,  Constance,  I'll  have  to  go  away  to 
school  soon,  and  then  I'll  not  see  you  for  a  long  time,  and 
maybe  never.  What  if  they  should  send  me  to  New  York,  or 
thereabouts.  It  takes  months  to  go,  and  I  couldn't  come 
back  for  years!" 

This  and  much  more  I  said  to  win  her  consent,  but  most 
of  all  the  thought  that  if  I  went  away  to  school  she  would  see 
me  no  more,  at  last  won  her  to  my  way.  So  with  tears  stream- 
ing down  her  dear  face,  she  put  her  arms  about  my  neck  and 
bade  me  do  as  I  wished. 

"There's  no  one  on  earth  so  good  and  sweet  as  you,  Con- 
stance," I  cried,  kissing  her.  Then,  not  waiting  to  say  more, 
I  ran  down  to  the  landing,  calling  to  her  to  stay  where  she 
was  until  I  returned. 

The  captain  of  the  War  Eagle  was  on  the  upper  deck,  and 
reaching  the  spot  where  he  stood,  I  looked  back  to  see  Con- 
stance, sad  and  dejected,  standing  where  I  had  left  her. 
Much  put  out  now  the  time  had  come  to  proffer  my  request, 
I  knew  not  what  to  say  or  do,  but  presently,  as  the  captain 
did  not  look  around,  I  went  up  to  him  and  made  known  my 
wish,  but  without  any  voice  or  heart  whatever.  To  this  he 
paid  no  attention  any  more  than  as  if  I  had  not  spoken,  but 
continued  on  with  the  business  he  had  in  hand.  Plucking  up 
courage  after  a  while,  I  said,  and  now  with  more  animation: 

"Captain,  I  want  to  get  a  berth  on  your  boat,  if  you 
please." 

To  this  he  made   no  reply,   any  more  than  in  the  first 


An  Adventure  335 

instance,  but  looking  down  called  angrily  to  the  mate  about 
some  matter  that  was  going  wrong;  and  this  makes  me  think 
that  I  have  never  known  men  with  such  high  tempers,  or  its 
semblance,  as  those  who  work  on  the  rivers.  For  if  the 
smallest  thing  goes  wrong,  they  appear  to  fly  into  a  furious 
passion;  but  no  sooner  has  the  occasion  passed  than  you  will 
see  them  laughing  and  talking  as  if  nothing  in  the  world  could 
disturb  the  serenity  of  their  tempers. 

Angered  beyond  speaking  at  the  captain's  treatment,  and 
observing  Constance  watching  me,  I  now  went  close  to  him, 
and  taking  hold  of  his  jacket  gave  it  a  jerk,  calling  out,  loud 
enough  to  be  heard  half  across  the  river: 

"Captain,  I  want  a  place  on  your  boat  as  cabin-boy." 

Upon  this  he  turned  about,  half  in  anger,  and  eying  me 
a  moment,  demanded: 

"What  is  that  you  want,  young  man?" 

Upon  this  I  repeated  my  request,  but  now  more  respect- 
fully, and  hearing  me  through  he  answered,  pleasantly  enough : 

"I've  no  work  for  you,  my  son.  You  are  not  strong 
enough  for  a  roustabout,  nor  tall  enough  to  look  after  the 
berths,  and  besides  the  darkies  attend  to  such  things." 

"I  only  want  a  place  as  cabin-boy,  sir." 

"You  are  not  smart  enough  for  that,"  he  replied,  looking 
me  over. 

"If  I  don't  know,  I  can  learn,"  I  answered,  seeing  my 
hopes  slipping  away. 

"You  are  too  slight,  my  son,  that  is  what  I  mean.  There, 
go  away;  I  have  no  time  to  talk  to  you,"  and  with  that  he 
turned  and  faced  the  crew  as  before. 

Rebuffed  and  discouraged,  I  stood  still,  but  he  taking  no 
further  notice  of  me,  I  at  last  made  my  way  to  the  lower  deck, 
and  now  by  the  opposite  stairs,  so  as  not  to  be  seen  from  the 
shore.  In  this  way  I  reached  the  farther  side  of  the  boat, 
where  I  stopped,  filled  with  such  disappointment  and  shame 
that  I  could  not  find  it  in  my  heart  to  go  back  to  Constance. 
While  thus  waiting,  not  knowing  what  to  do,  a  woman  stand- 


336  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

ing  by  my  side  gave  a  cry,  and  as  she  did  so  I  heard  a  splash 
and  at  the  same  moment  the  wail  of  a  frightened  child. 

"Oh,  my  God,  my  baby!"  she  screamed,  wringing  her 
hands  and  leaning  over  the  water  as  if  about  to  throw  herself 
headlong  into  the  stream.  Looking  down,  the  child  had  dis- 
appeared, but  while  I  gazed  it  came  to  the  surface  a  little  way 
below,  and  doing  so,  threw  up  its  hands  imploringly  as  it 
again  sank  beneath  the  water.  This  distressing  sight  and  the 
cries  of  the  poor  woman  were  such  as  would  have  stirred  any 
one,  and  without  thinking  I  threw  off  my  shoes,  and  running 
to  the  spot  where  the  child  had  disappeared,  plunged  into  the 
stream.  The  water  being  clear,  I  found  the  little  thing 
directly,  and  supporting  it  with  my  arm,  brought  it  to  the 
surface.  Now,  indeed,  I  was  thankful  to  my  dear  father  for 
having  one  day  thrown  me  headlong  into  the  pool  at  Wild 
Plum,  in  sport,  he  said,  to  make  me  swim  whether  I  would  or 
no.  Putting  my  arm  about  the  child,  I  lifted  it  to  my  shoul- 
der, and  with  the  other  turned  about  to  regain  the  boat. 
This  I  might  easily  have  done  had  the  water  been  still,  but 
the  current  turning  outward  with  the  bend  in  the  river,  or 
from  some  other  cause,  carried  me  swiftly  in  the  opposite 
direction.  Saying  some  soft  words  to  the  child,  I  soon  had 
it  quieted,  for  it  was  in  no  way  the  worse  for  the  ducking 
that  I  could  see.  Then,  on  its  showing  some  further  uneasi- 
ness, I  made  as  if  we  were  having  a  lark,  whereupon  it 
laughed,  and  taking  up  the  water  in  its  hand,  dashed  it  in  my 
face,  crowing  with  glee,  as  if  it  were  great  sport.  The  little 
thing's  weight  was  nothing,  and  I  carried  it  as  easily  as  I 
would  a  riding-whip;  but  having  the  use  of  only  one  arm 
I  could  make  no  headway  whatever.  As  we  drifted  farther 
into  the  stream  the  current  grew  stronger,  boiling  and  bub- 
bling about  us,  but  without  adding  much,  if  any,  to  the  labor 
of  keeping  afloat.  At  first  I  plainly  heard  the  captain  giving 
orders  to  man  the  yawl,  but  while  this  was  being  done,  the 
father  of  the  child,  a  poor  deck-hand,  frenzied  with  grief, 
sprang  into  the  river.  This,  foolishly,  as  it  appeared,  for  he 


An  Adventure  337 

could  not  swim  a  stroke,  and  so  sank  where  he  fell.  Thus  he 
had  first  to  be  rescued,  and  when  the  boat  at  last  turned  in 
my  direction  I  was  but  a  speck  on  the  distant  water.  The 
exertion  of  keeping  afloat  did  not  in  any  way  tax  my  strength, 
but  not  knowing  the  cause  of  the  delay  I  could  not  make  out 
why  they  were  so  long  in  coming  to  our  relief.  Finally,  no- 
boat  appearing,  I  thought  they  had  given  us  up  for  lost.  At 
this  I  was  greatly  discouraged,  for  I  could  see  no  way  by 
which  I  could  reach  the  shore  unaided,  because  of  the  swift 
current,  which  now  ran  like  a  mill-race.  While  meditating  on 
what  I  should  do,  I  looked  back,  and  to  my  great  joy  saw  the 
boat  coming  toward  us.  At  this  I  felt  as  good  as  new,  and 
thus  we  floated  on  past  the  bend  in  the  river,  and  out  of 
sight.  This  only  for  a  moment,  for  the  boat  quickly  came 
into  view  again,  throwing  the  spray  high  on  either  side,  as  if 
skimming  the  water  like  a  bird.  Then  in  a  moment  they  lifted 
us  aboard,  and  we  were  saved,  the  captain  taking  off  his 
jacket  and  wrapping  it  about  my  body,  the  mate  doing  the 
same  for  my  little  companion.  When  we  were  thus  tucked 
up,  and  not  until  then,  the  captain  spoke,  but  it  was  no  longer 
the  voice  I  had  heard,  but  that  of  a  soft-hearted,  compassion- 
ate man. 

"How  do  you  think  you  find  yourself  now,  my  son?" 

"I'm  all  right,  sir,"  I  answered,  as  indeed  I  was. 

"We  should  have  reached  you  sooner,  but  for  that  fool  of 
a  deck-hand.  I  expect  you  found  the  water  pretty  cold?"  he 
asked,  fastening  his  jacket  more  securely  about  my  body. 

"Not  at  first,  sir,  nor  enough  to  hurt.  The  little  one, 
though,  looks  pinched.  See  how  blue  its  lips  are, ' '  I  answered,, 
no  whit  the  worse  for  my  bath. 

Upon  this  the  captain  called  to  the  mate  to  rub  the  child's 
hands  and  limbs  and  wrap  it  up  more  warmly,  but  the  little 
thing  was  in  nowise  cast  down.  Brought  up  on  the  river,  it 
looked  on  the  water  as  its  home,  and  this  fortunately  for  me, 
for  it  gave  me  no  trouble  whatever,  but  from  the  first  treated 
the  whole  thing  as  if  it  were  play. 


338  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

On  our  way  back  the  shore  was  lined  with  the  passengers 
and  crew  of  the  War  Eagle  and  such  of  the  townspeople  as 
happened  to  be  about,  and  among  them  I  saw  Constance  with 
arms  outstretched.  At  this  I  stood  up  in  the  boat  and  waved 
my  hand,  calling  her  name,  and  this  I  continued  to  do,  that 
she  might  see  I  was  safe  and  unharmed.  When  finally  we 
reached  the  War  Eagle,  I  made  my  way  to  where  she  stood, 
and  putting  my  arms  about  her  trembling  form,  held  her, 
neither  of  us  speaking.  While  we  stood  thus,  the  captain 
came  up,  and  thinking  we  were  brother  and  sister,  said,  out 
of  compliment  to  her: 

"You  ought  to  be  proud  of  your  brother,  my  little  lady!" 

"Yes,  sir;  but  he's  not  my  brother,"  she  answered,  with- 
out offering  to  disengage  herself  from  my  arms. 

"A  cousin,  or  some  relative?" 

"No,  sir." 

"Your  lover,  then?  Well,  I  like  that  best.  Yes,  yes, 
decidedly,  that's  as  it  should  be.  A  few  years,  and  they  will 
soon  pass,  and  then  you  will  make  a  fine  couple.  Be  always 
as  you  are  now,  though,  for  it  was  in  that  way  my  wife  and  I 
grew  up;  and  now  she  is  the  finest  woman  in  the  world. 
Come,  my  son,"  he  went  on,  "are  you  the  lad  that  asked  me 
for  work?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  I  answered. 

"I  thought  so.  Well,  I  have  changed  my  mind;  captains, 
you  see,  can  do  that  as  well  as  other  people.  If  you  don't 
know  enough  to  be  a  cabin  boy,  you  will  learn,  and  of  that 
I  am  sure.  So  if  you  still  want  the  place,  I  shall  be  mighty 
glad  to  give  it  to  you." 

"Thank  you,"  I  answered;  "I  wish  you  would." 

"When  do  you  want  to  come  aboard — to-day  or  on  our 
return?  For  we  shall  be  pulling  out  in  a  few  minutes." 

"Yes,  to-day;  and  I'll  be  ready  as  soon  as  I  can  go  to 
Appletop  and  back." 

"You  have  plenty  of  time  for  that,  or  if  not,  we  will  wait 


An  Adventure  339 

for  you.  Now  be  off  and  get  some  dry  clothing.  We  will 
furnish  your  uniform,  and  glad  of  the  chance." 

"Thank  you,  sir;  I'll  be  back  in  half  an  hour,"  I  answered, 
taking  Constance's  hand. 

"Good  by,  little  lady,  and  don't  worry.  I  will  take  good 
care  of  him,  and  send  him  back  to  you  as  full  of  wisdom  as 
a  turtle,"  the  captain  called  as  we  hurried  away. 


CHAPTER   XLIII 

ON    BOARD   THE    WAR    EAGLE 

Accompanying  Constance  to  her  home,  I  returned  with  all 
haste,  to  find  the  War  Eagle  ready  to  cast  off;  and  the  captain 
seeing  me  come  aboard,  gave  the  word,  whereupon  the  boat 
backed  into  the  stream.  No  sooner  had  I  set  foot  on  deck, 
however,  than  the  roustabouts  and  emigrants  flocked  about 
me  as  if  I  were  a  lord,  determined  to  make  a  great  deal  out 
of  what  I  had  done.  This  is  always  the  way,  though,  and 
grows  out  of  the  natural  amiability  of  men  and  the  desire  they 
have  to  be  agreeable.  Among  the  foremost  to  welcome  me 
were  the  child's  father  and  mother,  the  latter  holding  the 
little  thing  high  above  her  head.  Upon  perceiving  me,  it 
reached  out  its  hands,  and  seeing  this  I  took  it  in  my  arms, 
but  more  to  please  its  father  and  mother  than  anything  else. 
For,  like  most  men,  I  *have  never  had  any  great  fancy  for 
strange  children.  The  father  and  mother  I  could  hardly 
shake  off,  and  throughout  their  lives,  all  too  short,  they  loved 
me  and  never  tired  of  going  out  of  their  way  to  do  me  some 
office  of  kindness.  Telling  them,  and  truly  enough,  that  if 
I  had  not  done  what  I  did,  others  would,  I  finally  got  off,  and 
so  made  my  way  to  the  captain  on  the  upper  deck.  He 
received  me  kindly,  and  upon  my  answering  that  I  was  ready 
to  go  to  work,  sent  for  Mr.  Devlin,  the  third  steward,  and  put 
me  in  his  charge.  This  gentleman,  when  stripped  of  all 
superfluity  of  title,  I  found  to  be  the  head  waiter,  and  nothing 
more.  Taking  me  to  his  room,  he  offered  me  the  half  of  it, 
which  kindness  I  gladly  accepted.  Here  I  was  fitted  out  with 
my  uniform  of  light  shoes,  duck  trousers,  and  jacket  to  match, 
a  military  cap  completing  the  outfit.  Thus  arrayed  I  looked 
34° 


On  Board  the  War  Eagle  341 

far  more  like  a  dapper  young  cadet,  I  thought,  than  the  coun- 
try-bred lad  I  was. 

As  the  day  was  partly  spent,  Mr.  Devlin  told  me  I  need 
not  go  on  duty  till  the  next  morning,  and  in  the  mean  time 
might  look  about  and  acquaint  myself  with  the  boat  and  the 
duties  I  was  to  perform.  Thanking  him,  I  first  of  all  sought 
out  those  who  were  to  be  my  companions,  and  these  I  found 
to  be  agreeable  young  fellows,  mostly  the  sons  of  farmers  and 
small  traders  living  about  the  river  towns.  They  one  and  all 
received  me  kindly,  as  did  the  lower  officers,  so  that  I  was  at 
once  put  at  my  ease  among  them.  After  that  I  made  a  tour 
of  the  War  Eagle,  and  a  fine  vessel  she  was,  with  side-wheels, 
and  a  sharp  prow  that  stuck  out  like  the  nose  of  a  fox,  and 
in  a  way  that  seemed  to  invite  other  boats  to  follow.  A  band 
of  gold  encircled  her  side,  and  at  the  summit  of  her  flagstaff 
an  eagle  perched  as  if  about  to  fly.  Another  like  it,  but  of 
burnished  gold,  hung  suspended  between  the  smokestacks, 
and  this  with  outstretched  wings  and  eager  neck,  as  if  all  its 
strength  were  put  forth  to  keep  up  with  the  noble  vessel. 

Going  through  the  boat,  and  critically,  as  one  having  some 
knowledge  of  these  things,  I  found  it  far  beyond  what  I  had 
thought,  and  such  as  to  fulfill  in  every  way  the  captain's  pride 
of  ownership.  The  management  and  practices  on  board,  too, 
were  also  in  keeping  and  orderly,  as  I  soon  came  to  know. 
For  the  captain  was  a  fine  business  man,  and  neither  drank 
nor  gambled,  nor  encouraged  such  things  in  others.  This, 
every  one  agreed,  was  greatly  to  his  honor,  considering  that 
the  receipts  of  the  tap-room  were  wholly  dependent  upon 
such  lines  of  custom,  and  by  his  giving  way  ever  so  little  its 
earnings  might  have  been  greatly  increased.  Being  a  firm 
man,  however,  he  was  never  led  astray  by  prospect  of  gain 
once  he  had  made  up  his  mind  in  regard  to  a  thing  of  this 
nature.  He  was  also  strenuous  in  respect  to  matters  of  con- 
duct in  others.  Thus,  he  would  have  it  that  all  gaming 
should  cease  promptly  at  break  of  day,  and  this  so  that  the 
business  of  the  boat  and  the  comfort  of  other  passengers  might 


The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

not  be  interfered  with  unduly.  If  there  were  exceptions  to- 
the  rule,  they  were  infrequent  and  such  as  could  not  properly 
be  criticised,  being  called  forth  by  the  prominence  of  the 
guests,  or  for  some  other  equally  good  reason.  Another  thing 
he  did  that  was  commendable  was  this:  Whenever  guests 
became  incompetent  from  drink,  and  so  as  to  scandalize  the 
management  or  create  disorder,  he  would  insist  that  they 
should  abstain  from  further  indulgence  for  the  time  being, 
and  if  still  incompetent,  should  go  to  their  rooms.  I  could 
recite  a  hundred  instances  like  these,  if  necessary,  to  prove 
his  fine  sense  and  firm  determination  not  to  let  matters  drift 
as  the  captains  of  some  vessels  were  in  the  habit  of  doing,  to 
the  great  scandal  of  the  river  and  its  business. 

After  I  had  finished  the  round  of  the  boat,  I  went  to  join 
Mr.  Devlin,  and  this  young  gentleman  I  found  stretched  in 
his  bunk,  reading  Kent's  Commentaries,  or  something  like 
that.  For  it  was  his  ambition,  it  appeared,  to  become 
a  lawyer,  and  his  present  duties  were  only  a  means  thereto. 
Notwithstanding  this,  he  easily  surpassed  every  one  about 
him  in  the  business  we  had  in  hand.  For  once  a  guest  had 
been  served,  and  opportunity  afforded  Mr.  Devlin  to  get 
a  look  at  him,  he  knew  from  that  time  on  better  than  the  man 
himself  what  dishes  pleased  him  best.  A  passenger  had 
but  to  move  his  lips  or  raise  his  eyes,  and  he  was  off  like 
a  shot  to  procure  what  was  wanted.  If  we  did  not  happen'to 
have  the  thing  asked  for,  which  was  sometimes  the  case, 
though  not  often,  he  was  never  abrupt  or  rude  in  making  it 
known,  as  less  skillful  persons  would  have  been,  but  tactful, 
so  that  in  the  end  the  passenger  felt  that  nothing  in  the  world 
could  have  been  more  inopportune  than  his  request.  Thus 
he  kept  every  one  in  good  humor  and  taught  his  subordinates, 
by  example  and  otherwise,  the  science  of  doing  obscure  things 
well.  Often,  too,  it  fell  out  that  some  of  us  small  fry  would 
get  into  trouble  with  a  guest,  whereupon  Mr.  Devlin  would 
be  called,  and  always  to  the  extinguishment  of  the  passenger. 
For,  while  he  did  not  deny  that  we  were  in  the  wrong,  he  in 


On  Board  the  War  Eagle  343; 

the  end  never  failed  to  bring  about  our  vindication.  This, 
however,  only  to  such  as  he  thought  were  doing  their  best. 
The  others  he  sent  ashore  with  their  pack  and  such  small  sav- 
ings as  the  clerk  had  to  their  credit  at  the  first  landing. 

Unused  to  business  or  any  kind  of  stir,  I  thought  it  fine  to 
be  doing  something,  but  strive  as  I  would  I  could  never  come 
up  to  the  needs  of  the  office.  Of  all  the  things  set  me  to  do, 
however,  I  found  it  hardest  to  remember  the  names  of  the 
dishes  to  be  served  at  dinner  and  the  order  in  which  they 
were  prescribed.  For  we  had  no  written  or  printed  bill  of 
fare,  as  was  afterward  the  custom,  and  as,  indeed,  some  of 
the  more  wastefully  managed  boats  had  at  the  time  of  which 
I  speak.  These  lapses  of  memory,  so  strange  and  inexcusable, 
were  a  constant  source  of  mortification  to  me,  for  none  of  my 
companions  had  any  difficulty  in  saying  off  the  names  glibly 
enough.  To  overcome  this  weakness  I  put  forth  every  effort, 
but  never  with  any  success  to  speak  of.  Thus,  acquainting 
myself  with  the  names  of  the  dishes  in  advance,  I  would  con 
them  over  till  I  had  them  at  my  tongue's  end;  but  when 
I  approached  a  guest  and  sought  to  repeat  them  in  order,  they 
vanished  from  my  mind  as  if  I  had  never  heard  them.  This 
not  wholly,  but  in  part,  and  usually  the  more  important  dishes, 
such  as  rare  meats  and  particular  pies,  held  in  high  esteem  by 
our  customers.  Perhaps  if  some  irate  guest  had  rebuked  me, 
I  might  have  mended,  but  no  such  thing  happened.  For 
sometimes,  when  one  would  face  about  with  kindling  eye  as 
if  to  say  some  rude  thing,  they  would  turn  it  off  in  another 
way.  Why,  I  do  not  know,  unless  it  might  be  because  of  my 
heightened  color  and  look  of  shame.  My  companions  soon 
came  to  know  my  failing,  and  so  would  stop  as  they  passed  to 
and  fro  to  set  me  right,  or  recite  at  length  the  dishes  that 
were  being  served.  Because  of  this  I  labored  the  harder  ta 
master  the  business,  but  never,  as  I  have  said,  with  any  suc- 
cess. Truly,  I  would  often  say  to  myself  in  shame,  the  cap- 
tain was  right  when  he  said  I  was  not  smart  enough  for  the 
business.  No,  alas!  and  never  would  be. 


344  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

We  had  breakfast  on  the  War  Eagle  at  seven,  and  dinner 
at  twelve,  supper  being  served  at  six.  With  the  first  and 
last  I  got  on  very  well,  as  there  were  but  few  dishes  and  they 
•easily  remembered.  Dinner  being  an  elaborate  affair  and 
made  much  of  by  the  captain,  I  could  in  no  way  get  the  hang 
of  it.  Because  of  these  lapses  I  mourned  much  in  secret,  and 
came  to  look  forward  to  the  hour  with  direful  forebodings. 
Mr.  Devlin,  in  his  great  kindness,  placed  me  at  the  upper 
•end  of  the  saloon,  where  the  ladies  sat,  and  this,  I  knew, 
because  they  were  less  exacting  than  the  men.  Indeed,  I  was 
'every  day  in  debt  to  one  or  more  of  these  dear  creatures  for 
some  act  of  forbearance  or  gentle  office  of  kindness  in  this 
connection.  Sometimes,  when  I  blundered  more  than  usual, 
I  would  glance  in  affright  at  the  captain  to  see  if  he  noticed 
my  awkwardness,  and  doing  so  would  perhaps  see  a  frown  on 
his  face;  but  when  he  saw  me  looking  toward  him  he  would 
smile  in  the  most  amiable  way  possible  and  as  if  greatly  pleased 
.at  the  deftness  I  showed  in  a  business  so  perplexing.  This 
forbearance  endeared  him  to  me  the  more,  but  without  in  any 
•way  lessening  the  shame  I  felt  at  not  being  able  to  do  as  well 
as  the  others.  Indeed,  in  the  end,  it  so  preyed  upon  me  that 
I  went  to  Mr.  Devlin  and  asked  to  be  put  in  the  pantry  to 
look  after  the  knives  and  forks.  This  he  would  by  no  means 
do,  saying  I  got  along  very  well,  and  that  no  complaint  had 
ever  been  made  by  the  captain  or  any  guest.  Encouraged  by 
this,  I  redoubled  my  efforts  to  please,  but  without  ever  being 
able  to  come  up  to  any  just  expectation  of  what  I  was 
required  to  do. 

One  of  my  duties,  and  that  which  I  liked  best,  was  to  see 
that  the  pilots  were  supplied  with  drinking-water  and  such 
small  things  as  their  business  required,  which  the  fixedness  of 
their  work  did  not  permit  them  to  look  after  themselves. 
This  took  me  to  the  wheelhouse,  and  many  times,  I  am  sure, 
when  there  was  no  excuse  for  it.  For  of  all  places  this  was 
the  best  for  seeing  what  was  going  on,  and  especially  for 
watching  the  river  and  the  country  round  about.  Had  I  been 


On  Board  the  War  Eagle  345 

older,  I  thought,  I  should  have  sought  to  learn  the  trade  of 
pilot,  for  save  that  of  captain,  it  seemed  to  me  the  most  con- 
siderable in  the  world.  To  know  the  channel  by  day  or  night 
and  be  able  to  carry  the  boat  forward  and  be  its  master  were 
things  apart  and  worthy  of  any  man's  strivings. 

The  work  of  the  cabin  boys  was  not  hard,  nor  eir  hours 
long.  We  were  up  at  sunrise  and  off  duty  at  seven  in  the 
evening.  After  that  we  were  our  own  masters;  and  it  was  my 
habit,  if  the  weather  was  not  too  rough,  to  spend  my  spare 
time  on  the  upper  deck  or  in  the  pilot-house.  Thus  midnight 
often  found  me,  and  reluctant  to  go  to  my  room,  where 
I  was  always  sure  to  find  Devlin  poring  over  his  studies. 

Of  all  the  things  that  happened,  and  they  were  many, 
the  most  romantic,  I  thought,  was  the  landing  at  night  for 
wood.  Then  the  torches,  placed  here  and  there,  lit  up  the 
dark  forest  and  glistening  water,  making  them  look  for  all 
the  world  as  if  they  were  alive  to  what  we  were  doing.  At 
such  times  the  patient  roustabouts,  running  back  and 
forth,  amid  the  cries  of  the  mate,  gave  to  the  scene  the 
air  of  being  a  place  of  punishment,  where  lost  souls  were 
scourged  with  blows  and  curses  to  do  more  than  lay  in  the 
power  of  men.  This,  I  have  often  thought  in  my  more  mature 
years,  was  not  far  from  the  real  truth,  though  the  necessity 
of  haste  in  the  business  of  such  carriers  makes  those  in 
charge  impatient  of  delay,  and  so  perhaps  more  prone  to  lose 
their  tempers  than  other  men. 

Thus  the  summer  and  fall  passed  as  the  War  Eagle  went 
back  and  forth  between  the  fair  city  of  St.  Louis  and  the  dis- 
tant posts  on  the  upper  river.  St.  Louis  was  then  the  most 
considerable  city  in  the  West,  and  well  worth  studying  by 
those  seeing  the  world.  Because  of  this  I  sought  in  every 
way  during  our  visits  to  increase  my  knowledge  of  its  affairs; 
and  thus  it  fell  out  that  here  for  the  first  time  I  found  my  way 
to  the  theater  one  hot  night  in  midsummer.  This  not  advisedly, 
as  it  turned  out,  for  demanding  a  ticket  at  the  office,  and 
the  agent  being  busy  over  his  accounts,  answered  absently: 


346  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"Where?" 

Not  knowing  what  he  meant,  I  replied  at  random: 

"Anywhere,  if  you  please." 

At  this  he  looked  up,  and  seeing  me,  cried  out  with  great 
promptness  and  show  of  gayety: 

"Ha,  no  coat!  From  the  country.  To  the  gods  with 
you";  and  straightway  handed  me  a  bit  of  paper  and  claimed 
his  quarter. 

Not  among  the  gods,  but  rather  with  the  damned  in  hell, 
I  thought,  on  climbing  to  my  seat,  for  I  could  conceive  of  no 
hotter  place  than  that  in  which  I  found  myself.  Here,  too, 
I  lost  what  small  change  I  had  about  me,  and  this  by  the  help 
of  a  pleasant-spoken  young  man  who  sat  beside  me  and  was 
at  pains  to  point  out  the  fine  points  of  the  play,  and  otherwise 
entertain  me  with  stories  of  the  town,  in  the  intervals  of  the 
acts.  This  adventure,  because  of  my  inexperience,  discour- 
aged me  from  making  further  excursions  of  a  like  nature,  so 
that  thereafter  I  was  content  with  such  exterior  views  of  the 
city  as  my  short  stature  and  the  crowded  streets  would  permit. 


CHAPTER    XLIV 

THE  STEAMBOAT  RACE 

The  season,  which  had  been  a  highly  prosperous  one  for 
the  War  Eagle,  at  last  drew  to  a  close,  and  when,  late  in 
October,  we  left  St.  Louis  on  our  last  trip,  travel  had  ceased, 
and  we  were  without  passengers  of  any  kind  save  a  few  emi- 
grants for  Keokuk  and  the  towns  thereabouts.  Nor  did  we 
have  any  freight  to  speak  of,  but  were  promised  a  load  on  the 
down  run,  and  this  it  was  that  had  induced  the  captain  to 
make  the  venture  so  late  in  the  year.  Of  the  cabin  boys  only 
Devlin  and  I  remained,  and  like  reductions  had  been  made 
elsewhere  throughout  the  crew.  Thus  lightened  of  men  and 
merchandise,  our  good  boat  skimmed  the  water  like  the  sea- 
gull she  was. 

The  War  Eagle  was  the  pride  of  the  upper  river,  excelling 
all  others  in  beauty  of  outline  and  speed,  so  that  the  most  ill- 
natured  did  not  venture  to  question  her  supremacy.  As  the 
season  was  closing,  however,  whispers  crept  about  the  land- 
ings that  the  new  boat,  the  Northern  Light,  was  the  better  of 
the  two.  These  insinuations  our  people  did  not  regard,  for 
if  this  were  so,  why  did  she  always  leave  ahead  of  us,  or  lag 
behind  when  we  pulled  into  the  stream?  Other  signs  there 
were  of  fear,  too  plain  not  to  be  seen  of  all  men.  Still  the 
whispers  went  on,  till  at  last  there  had  come  to  be  a  settled 
belief  on  the  part  of  many  that  the  Northern  Light  was  the 
faster  boat.  This  was  mere  boasting,  it  was  plain,  for  now 
we  were  making  our  last  trip  without  having  once  heard  the 
roar  of  her  wheels  or  the  boom  of  her  exhaust  alongside  the 
War  Eagle.  Surely  there  could  be  no  better  proof  than  this, 
if  proof  were  needed.  Thus  matters  stood  when  one  crisp 
347 


348  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

afternoon,  just  as  the  sun  was  setting,  we  turned  into  the 
Appletop  landing,  and  this  happily,  we  thought,  for  there  lay 
the  Northern  Light  with  steam  up,  as  if  awaiting  our  coming. 
Pert  and  trim  she  was,  too,  we  could  not  help  but  own,  riding 
the  water  like  a  wood-duck  ready  for  flight.  Looking  her 
over  from  out  the  corner  of  his  eye,  Captain  McGonnigle  dis- 
charged the  little  business  we  had,  and  taking  all  the  wood 
aboard  we  could  carry,  signaled  the  mate  to  cast  off.  This  in 
such  haste,  to  j,  that  I  had  scarce  time  to  say  good  by  to  Con- 
stance, who,  with  Setti,  had  awaited  our  coming. 

As  we  backed  into  the  stream,  the  Northern  Light  preceded 
us,  and  reaching  the  channel,  took  the  opposite  side,  and 
doing  so  slowed  down  her  engines.  Surely  invitation  was 
never  more  plainly  or  courteously  given!  Now  at  last  they 
were  going  to  see  which  was  the  better  boat,  and  fairly,  as 
such  things  should  be.  Mounting  to  the  top  of  the  pilot- 
house, a  thing  most  unusual  with  him,  Captain  McGonnigle 
signaled  to  put  on  all  steam;  and  even  as  he  gave  the  order 
great  clouds  of  black  smoke,  changing  soon  to  gray,  belched 
forth  from  the  towering  stacks  of  the  War  Eagle.  Nor  was 
it  long  before  the  heightened  roar  of  the  exhaust  told  him 
his  summons  had  been  effective,  and  that  the  Northern  Light 
would  not  find  us  lagging  in  the  race.  Thus  in  a  few  moments 
we  found  ourselves  in  the  channel,  the  Northern  Light,  with 
her  wheels  slowly  turning,  awaiting  our  coming,  as  if  not 
desiring  advantage  of  any  kind.  Seeing  this,  Captain 
McGonnigle  smiled  and  raised  his  cap  to  the  other  captain  in 
graceful  recognition  of  his  fairness.  With  this  friendly  act, 
however,  all  intercourse  between  them  ceased,  for  it  was  not 
a  question  of  courtesy  now,  but  of  supremacy,  in  which  the 
good  name  of  the  War  Eagle  hung  trembling  in  the  balance. 
Squaring  himself  and  looking  forward,  Captain  McGonnigle 
became  from  this  time  on  lost  to  everything  save  the  windings 
of  the  channel  and  the  movements  of  the  two  boats.  Straight- 
way as  they  shot  ahead  a  stillness  as  of  death  took  possession 
of  all  on  board,  for  in  the  hearts  of  the  most  hopeful  there 


The  Steamboat  Race  349 

could  not  but  be  a  doubt  as  to  which  would  prove  the  faster 
now  that  the  struggle  was  fairly  on.  As  the  vessels  gained  in 
speed,  the  water,  already  tipped  with  white-caps,  flew  high 
above  their  prows,  spraying  the  decks  and  those  who  stood 
watching  as  with  a  falling  shower.  Behind,  it  tossed  and 
foamed,  white  and  glistening,  like  an  angry  cataract,  as  far  as 
the  eye  could  see  in  the  gathering  night.  High  above  the 
swash  of  the  wheels  and  the  noise  of  the  escaping  steam,  and 
as  if  in  emphasis,  the  sharp  clang  of  the  bells  could  be  plainly 
heard  as  the  captains  called  for  sharper  fires.  Scarce  would 
one  cease  to  vibrate  than  the  other  would  take  it  up,  and  this 
with  angry  vehemence,  as  if  the  previous  summons  had  been 
neglected  or  only  half  fulfilled. 

Thus  the  challenge  rang  back  and  forth  as  we  stood 
watching  and  listening,  doing  nothing,  nor  able  to  do  any- 
thing. In  this  way  night  came  on,  and  the  stars  flared  out  in 
the  peaceful  sky,  but  without  any  one  regarding  them,  or, 
indeed,  knowing  that  the  day  had  set.  Now  lights  began  to 
blaze  forth  from  the  cabins  of  the  struggling  boats,  and  at 
every  prescribed  place,  fore  and  aft,  and  amidships,  the  signals 
of  the  river  gave  forth  their  warning.  About  the  furnaces, 
red  with  heat,  the  glare  of  the  fires  threw  a  lurid  light  over 
the  gurgling  waters  and  the  toiling  stokers  as  they  bent  over 
their  work,  stripped  to  the  waist  and  streaming  with  sweat. 
Till  now  no  gain  had  been  made  by  either  boat;  or,  if  in  the 
windings  of  the  channel,  which  the  sharp  prows  followed  as 
bloodhounds  do  their  quarry,  the  inner  circle,  shortening  the 
distance,  gave  some  advantage,  it  was  quickly  lost  in  the  next 
turning,  where  the  circle  was  reversed.  Thus,  amid  the 
cheering,  first  of  one  crew  and  then  the  other,  the  boats  flew 
onward,  the  water  beside  their  prows  sparkling  as  if  the  river 
were  aflame  from  the  friction  of  the  flying  vessels. 

Increasing  her  speed  by  greater  skill  in  firing,  or  some 
cunning  device  held  in  reserve  for  such  emergencies,  the  War 
Eagle  stretched  away  as  a  greyhound  will  when  its  prey  is 
full  in  view,  yet  without  gaining  any  advantage,  however 


359  ^e  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

small.  Nay,  the  other  presently  bringing  into  play  a  trick 
not  before  employed,  began  to  forge  ahead.  This  for  no 
reason  that  we  could  see,  until  at  last,  the  flash  of  her  fires 
lighting  up  the  interior  of  the  vessel,  discovered  her  crew 
pouring  oil  on  the  fuel,  and  at  intervals  flinging  great  balls 
steeped  in  the  liquid  substance  into  the  roaring  furnaces.  At 
the  sight  Captain  McGonnigle  threw  up  his  hands,  crying  out: 
"God  save  us!"  as  if  astonished  beyond  measure  at  the  reck- 
lessness of  the  thing.  Regaining  himself  after  a  moment,  his 
brow  darkened,  and  bending  over  he  ordered  the  engineer  to 
push  the  fires  as  the  other  was  doing.  With  his  speaking, 
and  as  if  action  had  only  awaited  his  command,  the  War  Eagle 
responded  to  the  added  force,  and  so  regained  after  a  while 
the  few  feet  it  had  lost.  Now  great  flames  burst  from  the 
tops  of  the  heated  smokestacks,  rising  high  in  the  air,  and 
falling,  left  streams  of  fire  to  slowly  sink  into  the  glistening 
river  far  behind.  Such  flames,  indeed,  we  had  seen  bursting 
from  the  Northern  Light,  but,  simple-minded,  we  ascribed 
them  to  their  greater  skill  in  firing.  In  this  way  the  War 
Eagle  plowed  her  way  through  the  darkness,  passing  one  after 
another  the  little  towns  at  which  we  had  thought  to  stop, 
but  now  giving  them  no  attention  whatever.  Making  no  gain, 
Captain  McGonnigle  at  last  looked  about  as  if  to  discover 
some  way  by  which  he  might  increase  the  speed  of  his  vessel, 
but  without  result.  Seeing  this,  I  approached  him,  and 
plucking  his  sleeve,  cried  at  the  top  of  my  voice,  so  as  to 
make  myself  heard: 

"Wouldn't  it  help  the  boat,  sir,  if  we  lifted  the  yawl  that's 
dragging  at  the  stern?" 

This  weight  he  seemed  not  to  have  thought  of,  and  was 
on  the  point  of  directing  me  to  have  the  boat  hoisted,  when, 
reflecting,  he  shook  his  head,  saying: 

"Go  and  see  if  their  boat  is  dragging,  and  if  it  is,  leave 
ours." 

This  practice  will  seem  strange  to  you,  but  at  the  time  of 
which  I  speak  was  common  enough.  The  landing-places  were 


The  Steamboat  Race  351 

then  far  apart,  you  must  know,  so  that  it  was  the  custom  to 
take  on  passengers  or  put  them  ashore  at  intermediate  points; 
and  to  save  time  in  such  emergencies,  a  yawl  or  light  boat  was 
allowed  to  drag  ready  for  use,  except  that  the  oars  were 
removed  to  prevent  their  being  stolen. 

Upon  receiving  the  captain's  order  I  hastened  to  the  lower 
deck,  where  I  found  our  yawl  dragging  in  the  water,  as  I  have 
said.  Turning  to  the  Northern  Light,  I  clearly  made  out  its 
boat  tied  in  like  manner,  and  in  the  stern  one  of  the  crew 
resting  at  his  ease.  Envying  him  his  seat,  and  reasoning  that 
we  ought  not  to  enjoy  any  unfair  advantage,  as  the  captain 
himself  had  thought,  I  slipped  into  our  boat,  and  untying  the 
rope,  let  it  run  out  through  the  ring  that  held  it,  until  in  this 
way  I  had  dropped  back  a  yard  or  more.  Thus  master  of  the 
situation,  I  could  at  will  come  close  under  the  deck  of  the 
War  Eagle  or  remain  away,  as  I  might  wish.  Reclining  in 
the  stern  of  the  boat,  wearied  with  the  excitement  of  the  even- 
ing, I  was  soothed  and  rested  by  the  swash  of  the  water  as  it 
tossed  the  light  craft  in  which  I  lay  this  way  and  that.  Yet 
without  in  any  way  losing  interest  in  the  race,  for  now  a  new 
view  presented  itself,  and  this  more  picturesque,  I  thought, 
than  the  other.  Above  my  head  clouds  of  fire  and  escaping 
steam  flew  across  the  reddened  sky,  while  about  me  the  air 
was  filled  with  spray,  which,  falling  on  my  upturned  face, 
wet  it  as  with  a  refreshing  dew.  Before  me  the  War  Eagle 
groaned  and  creaked,  and  a  little  way  off  the  other  vessel, 
not  less  strenuous,  put  forth  her  every  effort  to  gain  some 
slight  advantage,  but  unsuccessfully,  as  one  could  plainly  see. 

After  a  while,  beginning  to  tire,  as  we  will  of  every  form  of 
excess;  I  was  meditating  a  return  to  the  War  Eagle,  when 
flames,  higher  and  fiercer  than  before,  burst  from  her  stacks, 
lighting  up  the  heavens  with  a  deeper  and  wider  glow.  Think- 
ing some  new  device  was  being  tried,  I  sat  still,  and  doing  so, 
felt  the  increased  power  of  the  boat,  and  this  as  if  she  had 
before  been  held  by  some  restraining  hand.  Seeing  how  it 
was,  our  crew  raised  a  cheer,  but  alas!  For  as  our  stern 


352  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

tipped  the  prow  of  the  Northern  Light  and  victory  seemed 
clearly  ours,  there  came  a  sickening  roar,  all  too  plain,  from 
the  hull  of  the  War  Eagle.  With  the  sound,  and  sooner  than 
I  can  tell,  the  sky  was  aflame  with  fire  and  steam,  and  about 
me,  and  on  my  body  and  upturned  face,  particles  of  v/ood  and 
iron  fell  in  showers,  as  if  dropped  from  heaven.  Following 
the  sound,  and  without  any  interlude  whatever,  the  flying 
vessel,  her  body  burst  asunder,  began  to  settle  in  the  boiling 
water.  Seeing  this,  and  aroused  by  the  sight,  I  sprang  to  my 
feet,  and  letting  go  the  rope,  the  fierce  current  quickly 
drew  it  through  the  ring,  and  I  was  freed  from  the  sinking 
boat. 

Now  I  bethought  me  to  aid  the  others,  but  alas!  on  looking 
about,  there  was  not  so  much  as  a  stick  by  which  to  hold  or 
guide  the  craft  in  which  I  stood.  In  this  way,  and  in  agony 
of  grief,  and  crying  out  at  the  top  of  my  voice,  I  floated  away 
into  the  gathering  darkness  as  the  War  Eagle  sank  beneath 
the  troubled  waters.  This,  as  I  say,  without  being  able  to  so 
much  as  lift  a  hand  to  help  my  friends.  Not  so  those  on  board 
the  Northern  Light,  for  immediately  the  explosion  occurred 
she  reversed  her  engines,  and  in  a  moment  her  boats  were 
dancing  on  the  water  and  hastening,  amid  the  cries  of  her 
crew,  to  the  aid  of  our  stricken  people.  This  much  I  saw, 
but  only  partly  and  from  afar  off,  so  quickly  did  the  current 
carry  me  away  and  out  of  sight.  Standing  up  and  straining 
my  eyes  to  the  utmost,  the  lights  one  by  one  faded  out,  until  I 
was  alone  and  helpless  on  the  silent  river;  but  of  this  I 
neither  thought  nor  cared,  for  my  heart  was  filled  to  burst- 
ing at  the  unhappy  fate  of  my  late  companions.  Gladly  in  my 
grief  would  I  have  stayed  to  share  their  death,  but  instead  I 
was  each  moment  being  carried  farther  away,  helpless  as 
driftwood  to  aid  either  them  or  myself.  Thus  I  stood  for 
hours,  looking  back  and  mourning  till  the  night  was  far  spent 
and  the  moon  arose  over  the  distant  hills  of  Illinois.  At  this, 
and  in  a  measure  soothed  by  the  sight,  I  know  not  why,  I 


The  Steamboat  Race  353 

threw  myself  down  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat,  and  so,  after 
a  while,  fell  into  a  troubled  sleep. 

Awakening  at  dawn,  I  stood  up  and  scanned  the  shore  on 
either  side  to  see  if  I  could  make  out  some  familiar  object. 
In  vain,  however;  and  thus  an  hour  or  more  passed  without 
my  seeing  any  one  or  being  able  to  tell  my  whereabouts. 
Despondent  and  chilled  by  the  sharp  air,  I  began  to  search 
the  boat  anew,  to  see  if  I  could  not  devise  some  way  to  reach 
the  shore.  While  thus  busied  a  voice  hailed  me,  and  looking 
up  I  was  gladdened  by  finding  myself  abreast  of  Mr.  Hay- 
ward's  ferry,  where  Constance  and  I  had  passed  so  many 
happy  days.  Calling  to  Mr.  Hayward — for  it  was  he — to 
come  to  my  aid,  he  loosened  the  skiff  that  lay  fastened  at 
hand,  and  pushing  into  the  stream,  soon  neared  the  spot  where 
I  lay  drifting  with  the  current. 

"Hello,  Gilbert;  is  that  you?"  he  cried,  in  surprise,  on 
discovering  who  it  was. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"What's  the  matter?  Where  do  you  come  from?"  he  asked, 
resting  on  his  oars  as  if  too  much  astonished  to  proceed. 

"From  the  War  Eagle,  sir." 

"Why  in  this  shape?"  he  exclaimed. 

"It's  all  that's  left  of  her,  I  fear." 

"All  that's  left  of  her!    Why,  what  do  you  mean?" 

"She  blew  up  last  night." 

"God  bless  us!  blew  up!  and  the  passengers  and  crew?" 

"There  were  no  passengers,  but  about  the  crew,  oh,  Lord! 
I  don't  know,"  I  answered,  sorrow-stricken. 

"How  did  you  get  off?"  he  asked,  after  a  while. 

"fwas  dragging  at  the  stern." 

"Well,  that  was  lucky,  anyway." 

"Yes,  I  suppose  so,"  I  answered,  not  elated  as  I  should 
have  been  over  my  escape,  so  great  was  my  sorrow  for  those 
who  were  lost. 

"What  was  the  matter?    Were  you  racing?" 


354  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"Well,  there  was  a  boat  alongside  of  us." 

"That's  it,"  he  answered,  his  temper  rising,  as  men's  will 
sometimes  after  a  great  shock;  "our  river  men  will  never 
learn  anything,  and  now  this  new  accident!" 

"Yes,  sir;  but  it  couldn't  be  helped.  No  one  was  to 
blame." 

"No,  of  course  not.  It  was  Providence,"  he  answered. 
"That  is  where. we  lay  the  blame  for  all  the  foolish  things 
we  do.  What  a  spinal  column  Providence  must  have,"  he 
went  on,  "to  carry  so  great  a  burden!  But  while  we  are  talk- 
ing, the  current  is  taking  us  to  the  gulf";  and  starting  up,  he 
soon  reached  my  boat,  and  fastening  it  to  the  one  he  was  in, 
put  forth  all  his  strength,  and  so  brought  us  quickly  to  the 
landing  a  few  steps  from  his  home. 


CHAPTER  XLV 

TELLING  THE  NEWS 

Mrs.  Hayward  was  greatly  surprised  at  my  coming,  and 
more  so  at  the  terrible  accident  that  had  befallen  the  War 
Eagle.  Hastening,  I  begged  a  horse  of  Mr.  Hayward,  that  I 
might  reach  Appletop  before  news  could  come  to  Constance. 
While  standing  at  the  door  of  the  cabin  waiting,  I  told  them 
of  the  mishap  and  my  escape,  at  all  of  which  they  wondered. 
When  I  was  ready  to  mount,  Mr.  Hayward  asked  me  what  I 
intended  to  do  after  seeing  my  friends. 

"Bring  your  horse  back  and  thank  you  for  your  kindness, " 
I  answered,  not  attaching  any  other  meaning  to  what  he  said. 

"Where  will  you  make  your  home,  I  mean?  What  will  you 
do,  if  I  may  ask?"  he  replied. 

"I  don't  know,  but  I  suppose  Uncle  Job  will  want  to  send 
me  off  to  school,  as  he  talked  before,"  I  answered,  thinking  of 
it  now  for  the  first  time. 

"That  would  be  greatly  to  your  advantage,"  Mrs.  Hayward 
exclaimed,  pleased  at  the  idea. 

"Yes,  I  suppose  so;  but  I  don't  fancy  it  now  any  more 
than  I  did  at  first." 

"Why  not?"  Mr.  Hayward  asked,  surprised. 

"Because  I  don't  want  to  leave  Appletop,"  I  answered, 
looking  toward  Mrs.  Hayward,  who  knew  of  my  love  for  Con- 
stance. 

"Yet  you  have  been  away  all  summer,"  he  replied. 

"I  know,  but  I  could  come  back  when  I  wanted  to,  and  so 
it  was  not  like  being  away." 

"That  made  a  difference,  to  be  sure;  but  you  will  go  if  he 
wants  you  to?" 

355 


3 56  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"No;  it's  too  much  to  ask,"  I  answered,  making  up  my 
mind. 

"I  think  you  will  do  wrong  to  refuse,"  he  replied,  after 
a  while;  "but  if  you  don't  go,  how  would  you  like  to  come 
and  live  with  us?  I  need  some  one  to  help  me,  and  I  think 
we  would  get  along  finely  together.  Helen,  I  am  sure,  would 
be  glad  to  have  you,"  he  added,  turning  to  his  young  wife. 

"Indeed  I  should,"  she  responded,  and  as  if  meaning  what 
she  said. 

"Thank  you,"  I  replied;  "it  would  be  just  what  I'd  like, 
if  it  could  be  brought  about." 

"I  could  help  you  with  your  books,  too,  if  you  would  let 
me,"  she  went  on,  pleasantly;  "I  taught  school,  you  know, 
before  I  married  Mr.  Hayward,  and  liked  it  very  much.  So 
that  if  you  wish  to  come  and  live  with  us,  I  should  be  glad  to 
direct  your  studies,  and  could  find  the  time,  I  am  sure." 

"Nothing  in  the  world  would  be  so  good  as  that,  Gilbert, 
for  you  will  never  find  another  such  teacher,"  Mr.  Hayward 
exclaimed,  glancing  at  his  wife  with  admiration  and  love. 

"I  know  it,  and  it  would  exactly  suit  me  to  live  here, 
too,"  I  answered,  looking  toward  the  great  river  and  the 
forest  that  bordered  its  shores. 

"Well,  suppose  you  speak  to  Mr.  Throckmorton  about  it, 
if  you  are  of  the  same  mind  after  thinking  it  over,"  Mr.  Hay- 
ward  replied. 

"That  I  will,"  I  answered,  mounting  my  horse. 

Bidding  them  good  by,  I  soon  reached  the  Dragon,  where 
I  found  Constance  in  the  little  garden  beside  the  Dragon,  busy 
over  her  plants.  Hearing  me  approach,  she  looked  up,  and 
seeing  who  it  was,  gave  a  cry  of  joy. 

"Gilbert!" 

"Yes,"  I  cried,  slipping  to  the  ground  and  running  to 
her;  "I'm  back  again,  and  well,  you  see,  and  as  the  captain 
promised." 

"Oh,  Gilbert,  you  are  always  surprising  us  in  this  way," 


Telling  the  News  357 

she  answered,  holding  my  hands  and  scanning  my  face  to 
make  sure  I  was  not  deceiving  her. 

"Yes;   and  I  hope  you  are  glad  to  see  me?" 

"You  know  I  am,  though  I  was  not  expecting  you  so 
soon." 

"You  see  I  couldn't  stay  away  from  you  any  longer,  Con- 
stance. I've  been  away  too  long  already,"  I  answered,  kiss- 
ing her  hand. 

"Have  you  left  the  boat?  And  what  are  you  doing  with 
Mr.  Hayward's  horse?"  she  asked,  in  surprise,  noticing  the 
animal  now  for  the  first  time. 

"I've  just  come  from  the  Haywards. " 

"How  can  that  be,  when  you  went  up  the  river  last  night?" 

"Our  boat  met  with  an  accident,  and  so  I  dropped  down 
to  the  Haywards  before  landing." 

"An  accident!     What  was  it?" 

"A  serious  thing,"  I  answered;  "and  that's  why  I  wanted 
to  be  the  first  to  tell  you." 

Well  it  was,  too,  that  I  made  such  haste,  for,  while  I  was 
yet  telling  her  what  had  happened,  a  messenger  came  up  from 
the  river,  with  a  crowd  of  people  following,  calling  out  that  the 
War  Eagle  was  blown  up  and  all  on  board  drowned.  Stopping 
him,  I  asked  if  it  were  true  that  all  were  lost,  and  replying  he 
said  not  one  was  saved.  This  was  so  much  worse  than  I  had 
thought  that  I  cried  out  in  anguish  at  hearing  it:  but  so  it 
was.  Not  one  saved — Captain  McGonnigle!  and  Devlin!  and 
the  pilots!  The  poor  roustabouts,  too,  so  patient  and  striv- 
ing! All  gone!  every  one  cut  off,  and  without  time  to  breathe 
a  prayer!  It  was  too  terrible  to  think  of,  and  sinking  down 
on  the  ground  I  covered  my  face  with  my  hands.  Alas!  poor 
captain,  I  mourned,  you  have  sent  me  home  as  you  promised, 
but  you  yourself  will  never  go  back  to  the  wife  you  have  cher- 
ished so  long  and  tenderly.  Devlin!  and  is  this  the  end  of  all 
your  ambition  and  cleverness!  It  is  too  much!  And  the  dear 
pilots!  the  wise  men  up  aloft!  Surely,  never  before  have  you 


358  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

traversed  a  course  so  dreary  or  steered  a  sea  so  black !  Thus 
sorrowing,  Constance  put  her  arm  about  me  and  led  me  into 
the  Dragon ;  but  there  was  no  longer  any  sunlight  or  pleasure 
in  life  for  me,  for  my  heart  was  full  to  bursting  over  the  ter- 
rible fate  that  had  befallen  my  friends. 


CHAPTER   XLVI 

THE  AMERICANS 

Uncle  Job,  who  had  been  married  to  Miss  Betty  while  I 
was  away  seeing  the  world,  now  lived  in  great  comfort  and 
peace  of  mind  in  the  new  house  I  had  helped  build  and  furnish 
before  my  departure.  At  first  neither  he  nor  Aunt  Betty 
would  listen  to  my  going  to  the  Haywards,  but  after  a  few 
days,  and  much  to  my  surprise,  they  consented.  What  led 
them  to  change  their  minds  I  never  knew,  unless  it  might 
have  been  something  Mr.  Seymour  may  have  said.  For  I  had 
told  Constance  that  I  thought  Mrs.  Hayward  the  best  teacher 
I  could  have,  and  that  if  I  did  not  go  there  I  would  not  go 
anywhere.  However  that  may  be,  I  was  permitted  to  do  as  I 
liked,  and  I  bless  the  day  that  it  was  so,  and  the  happy 
chance  that  thus  brought  my  wayward  mind  within  the  influ- 
ence of  Mrs.  Hayward's  sweet  will  and  gentle  presence. 

The  Haywards,  with  whom  I  now  went  to  live,  belonged 
to  that  fine-tempered  class  that  have  made  our  country 
what  it  is.  Peasants  in  position  and  fortune,  they  pos- 
sessed the  instincts  of  rulers  and  the  fortitude  that  only 
the  noble  in  body  and  mind  have.  Poor,  they  endured  its 
privations  with  fortitude,  awaiting  better  fortune  with  sobri- 
ety and  patience.  If,  in  the  end,  their  efforts  should  be 
crowned  with  success,  they  would  still  retain  the  generous 
impulses  of  their  former  station,  or  if  this  was  not  to  be,  their 
children,  less  burdened,  would  achieve  the  greatness  they  had 
failed  to  grasp.  It  is  among  this  class,  in  our  free  land,  that 
the  virtues  of  the  state  lie  dormant,  awaiting  warmth  and  the 
favoring  shower,  as  all  who  are  acquainted  with  our  people 
know.  Struggling  on,  vainly  more  often  than  otherwise,  their 
359 


360  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

children,  coming  to  manhood,  rule  our  country  and  direct  its 
commerce.  Achieving  a  just  ambition  in  this  way,  none  can 
excel  them  the  world  over  in  greatness  or  the  gentle  arts  of 
husbandry.  Nor  this  alone  if  we  would  be  truthful.  For  not  all 
are  great,  but  shoulder  to  shoulder  and  crowding,  demagogues 
abound,  the  like  of  which  has  not  been  seen  since  the  days  of 
Athens.  This  has  been  foretold,  I  know;  but  who  can  greatly 
object  if  amid  so  much  golden  grain  some  tares  appear? 
Even  these  depraved  creatures  have  their  pride  in  the  Great 
Republic,  sweetened  with  the  belief  that  they,  too,  will  become 
honest  men  like  their  neighbors,  once  they  have  garnered  all 
the  loosely  guarded  resources  of  the  state.  Importunate,  they 
abuse  our  trust,  I  know,  but  impartially.  For  if  they  rob  and 
delude  you  to-day,  they  will  deal  unfairly  with  others  to-mor- 
row for  your  benefit,  if  thereby  they  can  gain  further  lease  of 
life.  So  it  goes;  and  shall  we  complain  too  bitterly  if,  good- 
naturedly  permitting  every  one  to  thrust  his  hands  into  the 
kneading-trough,  many  are  unclean  and  much  of  the  bread 
in  consequence  shall  be  sour  and  unfit  for  use? 

Of  Mrs.  Hayward  I  can  never  say  enough,  for  she  was  to 
me  in  all  things  a  tender  mother  and  loving  friend.  Of  her 
virtues  there  was  no  end,  and  of  these  not  the  least  were  her 
gentle  womanly  ways.  In  the  rude  hut  where  she  lived  she 
was  yet  a  queen,  and  this  by  right  of  her  grace  and  the  sweet 
serenity  of  her  nature.  Beautiful,  the  meed  of  admiration 
was  hers,  albeit  her  only  mirror  was  the  placid  waters  of  the 
great  river.  Educated,  who  could  deny  her  admiration, 
though  her  only  book  was  her  Bible?  For  such  deprivations 
are  ever  the  distress  of  poverty  and  life  in  a  new  country. 
Full  of  the  buoyancy  and  joy  of  living,  the  fragrance  of  her 
presence  was  a  benediction,  lifting  all  about  her  into  a  world 
of  virtue  and  peace.  Of  loving  and  pure  mind,  the  scandal 
and  distraught  of  life  passed  her  by,  leaving  no  taint  of  evil 
or  cloud  in  her  trustful  heart.  Exalted  above  men  by  right 
of  her  inability  to  do  wrong,  she  yet  believed  in  their  good- 
ness as  she  did  in  the  goodness  of  God.  Such  was  the  dear 


The  Americans  361 

lady  with  whom  I  now  came  to  live,  and  who  gave  each  day 
some  portion  of  her  time  to  the  betterment  of  my  head  and 
heart.  Thus  instructed,  I  spent  several  years  of  my  life,  and 
to  my  great  advantage  then  and  now. 

Of  Mr.  Hayward,  what  shall  I  say  that  you  may  see  him 
as  I  do,  looking  back,  and  not  too  clearly,  through  the  fast- 
gathering  years  of  a  long  life?  A  man  of  talent  and  ambition, 
and  every  way  kindly,  he  yet  lost  something  each  day  in  com- 
parison with  her.  This  not  strange,  for  the  pliant  reed, 
bending  before  the  sweeping  torrent,  recovers  its  poise  unhurt, 
while  the  stouter  plant,  struggling  against  the  swift-running 
stream,  is  uprooted  or  broken  in  the  effort.  Amid  the  rude 
surroundings  in  which  he  sought  preferment,  and  where  none 
might  wholly  succeed,  every  encounter  left  some  dent  or  dis- 
figuring scar.  The  struggle  and  its  hopelessness  seamed  his 
face  and  clouded  his  brow,  despite  his  courage,  so  that  all 
too  soon  he  lost  the  glow  and  ambient  fire  of  his  youthful 
days.  Diversion  would  have  prevented  this,  and  preserved 
till  death  impulses  that  lost  in  warmth  for  lack  of  nourish- 
ment; but  this,  unhappily,  is  ever  the  misfortune  of  obscure 
or  lonely  life.  For  of  vices  he  had  not  one,  save  a  too  great 
ambition  to  get  on  in  the  narrow  world  in  which  he  lived. 
Amid  great  surroundings  he  would  have  been  great.  As  it 
was,  striving  to  accomplish  much  with  little,  not  one  of  his 
ventures  enriched  him,  while  many  failed  altogether.  Uncon- 
querable, however,  he  struggled  on  undismayed,  as  such  men 
will,  to  the  very  end.  This,  sorrow  over  it  as  we  may,  is, 
unhappily,  ever  the  beginnings  of  men  as  it  is  of  the  affairs 
with  which  they  deal. 

Of  these  friends  of  my  youth  I  can  never  think  except  with 
bowed  head  and  throbbing  heart.  One  sought  to  teach  me 
the  beauty  and  sweetness  of  life,  mixing  with  her  instruction 
the  gentle  thoughts  that  animate  women  and  make  them,  as 
has  been  said,  the  inspiration  of  men  and  the  Mother  of  God. 
The  other  taught  me  more  simple  and  practical  things,  but 
not  the  less  necessary,  on  that  account,  to  our  welfare  and 
happiness  here  and  hereafter. 


CHAPTER   XLVII 

MAKING  THE   MOST  OF  THINGS 

Mr.  Hayward  in  his  youth,  so  it  was  said,  had  looked  for- 
ward to  a  professorship  or  something  of  that  nature,  but  com- 
ing to  the  West  when  a  young  man,  and  there  being  no  call 
for  anything  of  the  kind,  he  had  ended  by  becoming  a  ferry- 
man and  small  farmer.  Of  his  business  I  knew  little,  but  my 
presence  affording  him  some  leisure,  it  was  not  long  before 
he  began  to  extend  his  affairs,  and  in  directions  not  before 
thought  of,  or  at  best  only  vaguely.  In  this  his  energy  and 
fertility  of  mind  never  ceased  to  be  a  matter  of  wonder  and 
instruction  to  me,  and  never  will. 

"Learn  something  every  day,  Gilbert,"  he  would  say,  "if 
it  is  only  the  fraction  of  an  idea.  You  can't  make  headway 
else,  for  it  is  as  necessary  to  fertilize  the  mind  as  it  is  a  cab- 
bage-patch. If  you  don't  thus  burnish  your  wares,  they  will 
rust,  for  there  is  no  standing  still.  Besides,  new  ideas  are 
needed  to  encourage  you  to  keep  on  in  what  you  are  doing, 
to  say  nothing  of  attempting  other  things." 

"How  can  one  learn  anything  here?"  I  asked  one  day, 
looking  about  on  the  still  landscape. 

"In  many  ways.  You  see,  you  hear,  you  think;  and  while 
the  people  who  use  the  ferry  don't  impart  much  knowledge, 
the  Lord  knows  it  is  what  their  idle  chatter  suggests  that  is 
valuable."  And  truth  to  tell,  he  never  failed  himself  to  profit 
by  the  advice  he  gave;  for  however  small  the  hint  conveyed 
in  what  he  heard  or  saw,  it  was  enough  to  set  his  mind  in 
motion,  and  so  bring  forth  fruit  of  some  kind.* 

^Gilbert  Holmes,  on  reviewing  this  chapter  of  his  life,  thought  it  should  be  omitted. 
It  was  apparent,  however,  that  he  was  influenced  in  this  by  the  fear  that  it  would  in 
some  way  reflect  on  his  dear  friend  Hayward.  I  could  not  share  in  this  opinion,  believ- 

362 


Making  the  Most  of  Things  363 

As  the  ferry  was  not  much  used,  Mr.  Hayward  early  con- 
ceived the  idea  that  other  things  might  be  sandwiched  in  to 
occupy  our  spare  time.  For  of  idleness  he  was  the  sworn 
enemy,  and  because  of  it  rainy  days  and  other  unprofitable 
moments  fretted  him  beyond  endurance.  Rest,  as  most  peo- 
ple understand  it,  he  looked  upon  as  idleness. 

"You  can  rest  best  by  changing  from  one  kind  of  work  to 
another,"  he  would  insist,"  not  by  whittling  a  stick  or  going 
to  the  circus. " 

It  was  in  pursuance  of  such  ideas  that  we  hit  upon  the 
scheme  of  manufacturing  shingles  in  the  intervals  of  our  other 
duties,  and  this  to  our  great  advantage,  as  it  appeared. 

"People  must  have  roofs  over  their  heads,  and  many  have 
none,  or  at  best  only  poor  ones,"  he  explained.  "They 
need  shingles  for  this,  and  their  manufacture  will  open  a  new 
field  for  us,  and  one  that  will  dovetail  with  our  work  at  the 
ferry." 

For  him  to  conceive  an  idea  was  to  put  it  in  execution,  and 
so  we  at  once  set  out  to  build  a  machine,  and  this  so  near  the 
landing  that  both  industries  could  be  carried  on  at  the  same 
time.  The  blocks  for  making  the  shingles  we  cut  in  winter 
and  brought  to  the  mill  when  other  work  was  not  pressing, 
and  in  order  that  bad  weather  might  not  hinder  us  we  inclosed 
the  machine  in  a  rough  shed.  At  one  side  we  built  a  vat,  and 
filling  this  with  blocks  of  the  needed  length,  we  let  in  the  water, 
and  now  starting  a  brisk  fire  in  the  furnace,  the  steam  and 
heated  water  soon  softened  the  material  'ready  for  cutting. 
I  being  the  smaller  of  the  two,  and  yet  sufficient,  held  the 
blocks  while  Mr.  Hayward  worked  the  lever  by  which  the 
knife  was  raised  and  lowered.  Black  walnut  being  plentiful, 
we  used  it,  but  sparingly,  exacting  a  higher  price.  Being 
tenacious  of  fiber,  the  labor  of  cutting  this  wood  was  great, 

ing  it  greatly  to  the  latter's  honor,  and  for  this  reason  have  disregarded  his  expressions 
in  the  matter,  feeling  that  Mr.  Hayward  was  beyond   most  men,  and  what  he  did  and 


leeling  . 

said  worthy  of  regard.  Moreover,  it  serves  to  make  us  better  acquainted  with  Gilbert 
Holmes  himself,  and  his  sweet  charity  and  gentle  ways  and  belief  and  trust  in  those 
about  him;  and  for  these  reasons,  if  for  no  others,  I  have  thought  it  should  not  be 
omitted.— THE  AUTHOR. 


364  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

and  so  taxed  Mr.  Hayward's  muscles  that  they  sometimes 
fairly  snapped  under  the  strain.  With  cottonwood,  of  which 
there  was  no  end,  it  was  different;  for  if  steamed  to  a  proper 
consistency,  you  could  cut  it  as  you  would  clip  a  sausage. 
Of  the  two  kinds  of  shingles  our  preference  inclined  strongly 
to  cottonwood;  on  Mr.  Hayward's  part  because  the  labor  was 
less,  and  on  mine  because  it  did  not  discolor  my  hands,  black 
walnut  staining  them  so  that  they  were  of  every  shade  from 
light  brown  to  a  deep  black.  This  mortified  me  at  first,  but 
afterward,  Constance  not  speaking  of  it  or  appearing  to  notice 
anything  unusual,  I  became  more  reconciled  to  the  disfigure- 
ment. Indeed,  the  dear  girl  regarded  it  so  little  that  when 
visiting  us  at  the  mill,  if  I  happened  to  be  packing  the  shingles, 
she  would  sit  by  my  side  and  pass  them  to  me,  one  by  one, 
for  an  hour  at  a  time.  Or,  if  I  was  holding  the  blocks  in  the 
machine,  she  would  seat  herself  in  my  place,  and  do  the  work, 
or  make  pretense  of  doing  it.  At  such  times  I  watched  her 
from  the  platform  where  I  stood,  and  this  not  always  dis- 
creetly; for  one  day,  when  observing  her  instead  of  attending 
to  the  business  in  hand,  I  came  near  to  losing  my  arm  under 
the  great  knife.  After  that  I  determined  to  be  more  circum- 
spect, but  nevertheless  took  many  desperate  chances  that 
I  might  speak  to  her  or  gaze  upon  her  dear  form  while  occu- 
pied with  my  work. 

Of  the  two  kinds  of  shingles,  buyers  were  averse  to  cot- 
tonwood, on  the  ground  that  it  would  warp  and,  being  soft, 
the  more  quickly  decay.  Neither  of  these  things,  however, 
would  Mr.  Hayward  fully  admit. 

"If  properly  seasoned,  as  in  our  case,  and  cut  with  refer- 
ence to  the  grain,  and  afterward  laid  with  sufficient  lap  and 
due  regard  to  security  of  joints,  a  cottonwood  shingle  will 
afford  protection  that  any  man  may  be  proud  of — for  the 
price,"  he  would  say,  and  truly  enough. 

Of  the  prevailing  belief  that  pine  made  the  most  service- 
able shingle,  he  professed  to  think  lightly. 

"You   must   not   overlook   the    great   difference   in   cost 


Making  the  Most  of  Things  365 

between  cottonwood  and  pine,"  he  would  say  to  customers; 
"that  is  always  an  important  item  with  poor  people.  Black 
walnut  is  superior  in  wearing  qualities,  and  we  furnish  it  when 
wanted;  but  if  utility  and  cheapness  are  considered,  cotton- 
wood  is  preferable  to  all  others." 

Of  the  outcome  of  our  sales  I  do  not  so  well  remember, 
but  in  new  communities,  where  everything  is  being  tried, 
buyers  do  not  treasure  malice,  as  they  do  in  older  societies, 
against  a  seller  if  they  happen  not  to  get  the  very  best. 

"Only  idle  men  and  fools  can  spare  time  to  think  of  their 
grievances,"  Mr.  Hayward  was  in  the  habit  of  saying,  and 
indeed  he  carried  this  out  in  his  own  life  when  he  got  the 
worst  end  of  a  bargain,  as  he  often  did.  Moreover,  if  we  had 
a  margin  of  advantage  in  the  sale  of  our  shingles,  it  was  offset 
by  the  difficulty  we  had  in  collecting  our  money  afterward. 

"Most  men  are  like  children,"  Mr.  Hayward  used  to 
remark,  when  looking  over  our  list  of  bad  debts;  "they  will 
buy  anything  if  too  much  stress  is  not  laid  on  payment,  and  this 
last  one  cannot  do  if  his  goods  are  in  discredit,  as  in  our  case. ' ' 

Of  the  latitude  allowed  traders  in  respect  to  their  goods, 
he  was  always  tenacious,  but  never  to  the  extent  of  taking 
undue  advantage  of  any  one. 

"In  ancient  times,  among  trading  people,"  he  once 
explained,  referring  to  such  matters,  "gain  of  every  kind  was 
thought  meritorious,  no  matter  how  acquired.  In  our  day  it  is 
different,  though  we  are  allowed  to  put  as  good  a  face  on  mat- 
ters as  possible,  and  this  holds  true  of  cottonwood  shingles  as 
much  as  it  does  of  poor  calico  or  sanded  sugar.  Our  shingles 
may  curve  a  little  now  and  then  if  not  properly  placed,  but 
when  ~Jake  Kilp  says  a  boy  must  sit  on  every  shingle  to  keep 
it  down,  he  goes  to  the  other  extreme." 

"Yes,  Kilp's  a  liar,"  Blott,  who  was  standing  by,  spoke 
up.  "Why,  a  willin*  boy  could  easily  keep  down  two  such 
shingles,  or  three,  for  that  matter,  if  he  was  spry." 

"Nonsense!"  Mr.  Hayward  answered;  "there  is  nothing 
funny  about  it.  If  they  will  put  enough  nails  in  the  shingle 


366  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

it  will  hold.  It  is  with  shingles  as  it  is  with  trees;  but  men 
will  plant  a  ten-dollar  tree  in  a  five-cent  hole,  and  then  blame 
the  seller  if  it  dies.  There  is  nothing  in  such  economy,  though 
plenty  of  men  practice  it." 

When  we  were  at  work,  if  a  team  or  horseman  were  to  be 
sent  across  the  river,  Mr.  Hayward  would  go,  and  that  time 
might  not  be  frittered  away,  I  occupied  myself  meanwhile  col- 
lecting and  packing  the  loose  shingles  ready  for  delivery. 
This  with  great  industry,  be  it  said,  if  Constance  and  Setti 
did  not  happen  to  be  by;  but  if  they  were,  little  was  done,  at 
which  Mr.  Hayward  would  stare  on  his  return,  but  never  in 
an  angry  way. 

As  the  demand  for  our  product  was  limited,  it  became 
necessary  to  devise  other  means  of  filling  up  the  time,  and 
accordingly  Mr.  Hayward  hit  upon  the  idea  of  manufacturing 
mattresses,  great  numbers  being  required  by  the  people  com- 
ing into  the  new  country.  Of  hair  and  things  of  that  sort 
generally  resorted  to  by  manufacturers  we  had  none,  but  of 
corn-husks  great  quantities,  and  of  much  delicacy  and  firmness 
of  texture.  These  Mr.  Hayward  conceived  to  be  especially 
fit  for  making  beds — not,  indeed,  in  their  raw  state,  but  man- 
ufactured to  meet  needed  conditions.  The  machinery  we 
used  for  this  was  simple  in  the  extreme.  Taking  pieces  of 
wire,  we  heated  the  ends,  and  in  that  condition  pressed  them 
into  a  board  of  suitable  width  and  thickness.  The  other  ends 
we  sharpened  to  a  point,  and  thus  had  a  strong  comb  of 
upright  wires.  Now  taking  the  husk  in  our  hands,  we  drew 
it  across  the  sharpened  prongs,  and  so  split  it  into  myriads 
of  small  threads.  Afterward  collecting  these,  we  had  the 
material  for  a  bed. 

"A  couch  fit  for  a  prince,"  Mr.  Hayward  maintained, 
"and  the  equal  of  the  best  in  durability  and  restful  qualities. 
Its  healthfulness  recommends  it,  too,  because  of  freedom 
from  vermin  and  the  small  particles  noxious  to  the  lungs  and 
body  known  to  attach  themselves  to  feathers,  no  matter  how 
carefully  selected  and  steamed." 


Making  the  Most  of  Things  367 

Of  these  beds  we  manufactured  many,  and  with  fair  profit 
so  long  as  our  husks  held  out.  Afterward,  buying  in  the 
market,  our  gains  were  lessened,  but  not  perceptibly,  as  the 
material  was  not  thought  to  have  any  value  to  speak  of.  The 
labor  of  production,  while  not  great,  was  exacting  in  the 
extreme,  for  if  by  chance  the  eye  wandered  ever  so  little, 
your  fingers  becoming  impaled  on  the  sharp  needles,  ugly 
wounds  would  result. 

"Such  accidents,"  Mr.  Hayward  would  say,  philosophic- 
ally, "teach  the  necessity  of  close  application  in  business  if 
one  would  avoid  mishaps,"  but  Mrs.  Hayward,  looking  upon 
them  in  a  less  practical  way,  would  often  shed  tears,  as  she 
busied  herself  binding  up  our  torn  hands. 

To  further  our  industry,  we  also  made  bolsters  and  pillows 
from  husks  and  a  species  of  lichen,  which  latter  wab  found  in 
great  abundance  in  the  neighborhood.  Separating  this  with 
care,  and  afterward  heating  it,  Mr.  Hayward  maintained  that 
a  pillow  thus  manufactured  was  the  equal  of  the  best. 

"Not  only  that,  but  it  will  be  found  to  possess  aromatic 
qualities  highly  curative  of  influenzas  and  catarrhal  afflictions 
prevalent  here.  As  regards  comfort  nothing  can  excel  it, 
unless  it  may  be  the  selected  feathers  of  tame  geese,  and  these 
being  rare  and  high-priced,  none  but  the  rich  can  afford  them. " 

However,  notwithstanding  the  excellence  of  our  goods, 
trade  lagged,  and  this  despite  all  that  could  be  said. 

"The  trouble  is,"  Mr.  Hayward  was  in  the  habit  of  saying, 
"a  pillow  being  open  to  the  view  of  visitors,  something  plump 
and  fluffy  must  be  exhibited  by  every  good  housewife. 
Because  of  that  we  must  content  ourselves  with  making  pil- 
lows for  rooms  that  the  critical  eyes  of  neighbors  do  not  reach. 
Our  mattresses  being  hid  away,  people  buy  them  and  save 
money,  but  they  must  have  fat  pillows  made  of  feathers  for 
the  effect  on  visitors  and  other  peepers.  Pillows  ought  not 
to  be  used,  anyway,"  he  always  maintained,  "for  they  give 
people  stringy  necks,  like  turkeys;  but  if  used  at  all,  they 
should  be  of  moderate  thickness,  such  as  we  make." 


368  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

The  forms  of  industry  I  have  enumerated,  however  pro- 
ductive, were  only  a  part  of  Mr.  Hayward's  means  of  piecing 
out  our  profit-and-loss  account,  and  among  other  things  a  way 
of  utilizing  the  forests  that  lay  about  our  house  soon  sug- 
gested itself  to  his  practical  mind.  There,  if  it  were  mild, 
our  cattle  found  nourishment  to  carry  them  through  the 
winter,  with  little  of  the  help  other  and  less  provident  farmers 
were  required  to  furnish.  Protected  by  the  trees,  the  soft 
grasses  grew  far  into  the  winter,  and  with  the  first  disappear- 
ance of  snow  sprung  again  into  luxuriant  life.  The  cows, 
thus  fed  with  little  or  no  expense,  afforded  us  butter  and 
milk,  and  a  margin  for  sale;  but  as  this  last  required  some 
measure  of  attention  upon  the  part  of  Mrs.  Hayward,  he  did 
not  press  it.  For  in  all  things  he  was  very  tender  of  her, 
shielding  her  in  every  way  from  the  hardships  he  himself  so 
unflinchingly  faced.  Of  this  I  thought  much  and  gratefully 
at  the  time  and  in  after  years,  and  the  more  because  of  his 
boundless  ambition  and  great  activity  of  life. 

The  care  of  the  cattle,  pastured  in  the  way  I  have  described, 
being  a  matter  apart,  was  attended  to  when  other  business  did 
not  press.  Thus,  if  at  dark  they  had  not  come  home,  I  went 
in  search  of  them,  and  in  this  my  knowledge  of  the  woods  and 
the  wiles  of  these  creatures  stood  me  in  good  stead.  Going 
this  way  and  that,  and  stopping  at  intervals  to  listen,  no 
sound  would  reach  me  save  those  peculiar  to  the  forest  at 
night.  For  of  all  cunning  animals  there  are  none,  you  must 
know,  equal  in  wiliness  to  the  leader  of  such  a  herd.  She 
comes  to  know,  and  this  with  certainty,  that  the  slightest 
movement  means  discovery,  followed  by  other  annoyances 
repugnant  to  her  placid  nature.  Because  of  this  she  will 
maintain  such  steadiness  of  poise  for  hours  at  a  time  that  no 
warning  note  of  the  bell  she  carries  will  disturb  the  stillness 
to  mark  her  presence.  Thus  I  would  often  wander  about  or 
sit  listening  on  my  horse  far  into  the  night,  until  some  unlucky 
stroke  betrayed  her  whereabouts.  Because  of  these  visits 
my  face  and  hands  were  much  disfigured  by  the  stings  of 


Making  the  Most  of  Things  369 

mosquitoes  and  other  insects;  but  of  the  former  Mr.  Hayward 
maintained,  and  doctors  there  were  who  agreed  with  him,  that 
it  was.preventive  of  malarial  ailments,  and  in  other  ways  of 
considerable  sanitary  benefit  to  men.  This,  I  know,  is  now 
disputed,  but  certain  it  is  that  my  wanderings  never  resulted 
in  any  harm  to  me.  On  the  contrary,  I  each  day  grew  more 
robust,  and  so  straightened  out  that  at  sixteen  I  had  attained 
my  full  height. 

Of  the  many  varied  diseases  then  common  to  the  new 
country,  Mr.  Hayward  acquired  a  specific  for  fever  and  ague 
that  was  superior  to  all  others  then  known.  Not  only  would 
it  stop  the  tremor  of  the  chill  and  the  fever  that  followed, 
but  killed  the  disease  utterly,  so  that  no  trace  of  it  afterward 
reappeared.  This,  it  is  well  known,  quinine  will  not  dp;  and 
it  followed  that  our  house  came  to  be  much  frequented  by 
those  afflicted  in  the  way  I  speak  of.  Indeed,  it  was  no 
unusual  thing  when  we  arose  in  the  morning  to  find  a  motley 
crowd,  with  sallow  faces,  standing  about  the  door,  their  teeth 
chattering  like  castanets  in  the  frosty  air.  Supplying  our- 
selves, therefore,  with  great  quantities  of  the  specific,  and  sell- 
ing it  at  a  moderate  profit  and  for  cash,  when  we  could,  we 
derived  much  gain  and  the  community  a  great  and  lasting 
benefit.  For  in  this  thing  Mr.  Hayward  was  admittedly 
a  benefactor,  as  he  was  in  many  other  matters  not  so  appar- 
ent at  the  time.  If  it  happened  that  an  applicant  was 
unable  to  pay,  which  was  often  the  case,  Mr.  Hayward  would 
refuse  to  accept  anything;  and  as  nearly  every  one  was  poor, 
Mrs.  Hayward  would  often  say: 

"Why  do  you  take  pay  for  the  medicine,  William?  Surely 
the  cost  is  not  enough  to  speak  of."  But  to  this  he  would 
always  answer: 

"They  would  never  touch  the  stuff  if  I  gave  it  away, 
Helen.  Medicine  is  like  advice;  if  people  have  to  pay,  they 
will  go  miles  to  get  it,  even  from  a  knave  or  fool.  Why  not 
charge  something?  My  medicine  is  better  than  the  doctor's, 
and  the  cost  not  nearly  so  much.  Besides,  my  dear,  as  I  say, 


37°  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

they  would  not  come  near  us  if  we  gave  it  away.  It  is  the 
people  who  set  great  store  on  what  they  have  that  are  most 
sought  after." 

As  our  little  farm  had  to  be  tilled,  this  required  horses, 
and  as  the  best  were  high-priced,  and  we  did  not  have  much 
money,  Mr.  Hayward  contented  himself  with  such  as  he  could 
get  at  a  moderate  figure.  It  resulted  from  this,  our  selection 
being  limited,  that  we  were  often  scurvily  dealt  with  by  those 
having  these  animals  to  sell.  Often  by  patience  we  could 
bring  the  unruly  beast  under  subjection,  but  at  best  only  par- 
tially; for  of  all  things  in  the  world  a  horse  is  the  most  difficult 
to  break  of  a  bad  habit.  In  this  way  we  came  in  time  to  own 
a  great  variety  of  animals,  some  of  which,  notwithstanding 
Mr.  Hay  ward's  skill  as  a  trader,  he  found  it  impossible  to 
dispose  of  except  at  a  loss.  One  animal  of  great  stature  that 
we  acquired  in  the  way  I  speak  of  had  a  trouble  in  breathing, 
but  this  we  did  not  discover  until  too  late,  some  soothing 
lotion  having  been  used  to  deceive  us  for  the  moment. 
Indeed,  so  choked  would  the  animal  become  with  undue  exer- 
cise that  coming  suddenly  upon  a  croupy  child  could  not 
startle  you  more.  There  were  those  who  maintained  that 
the  Raven,  for  so  Mrs.  Hayward  named  him,  was  broken  in 
wind,  but  this  Mr.  Hayward  would  not  admit,  ascribing  the 
trouble  mainly  to  irritation  of  the  larynx,  such  as  singejs  and 
public  speakers  are  often  afflicted  with.  With  a  moderate 
gait,  however,  the  Raven  would  go  from  sunrise  to  sunset  with- 
out show  of  weariness;  and  of  all  the  horses  I  have  ever  known 
there  was  never  one  with  a  better  disposition.  So  true  was 
this  that  in  the  excursions  Mrs.  Hayward  and  Constance  and 
I  sometimes  took  at  odd  moments  and  in  the  way  of  indul- 
gence, we  always  chose  the  Raven  by  preference.  Fastening 
him  beside  the  pole,  he  would  haul  a  wagon  with  ease,  and 
because  of  his  great  docility  could  be  safely  left  beside  the 
road  or  wherever  we  might  wish  to  stop.  For  gossiping  and 
idling  by  the  way,  no  horse  in  the  world  could  equal  him. 
Indeed,  from  the  manner  in  which  he  pricked  up  his  ears, 


Making  the  Most  of  Things  371 

and  a  habit  he  had  of  changing  from  one  foot  to  another,  we 
came  in  time  to  think  he  understood  much,  if  not  all,  we  said. 
He  must  be  driven  quietly,  however,  and  within  limits.  For 
if  you  but  urged  him  beyond  this,  the  women  would  hurry 
from  their  homes  as  we  passed,  to  see  if  by  chance  some  child 
had  not  been  stricken  with  croup  or  other  ailment  of  the 
throat,  so  loud  and  hoarse  was  his  croaking. 

Of  the  end  of  this  valuable  animal  I  do  not  know,  for  in 
an  unfortunate  hour  and  through  eagerness  of  trade  Mr.  Hay- 
ward  swapped  him  for  a  cholera  specific  he  thought  we  could 
use  to  advantage.  This  trade  caused  us  all  much  sorrow,  for 
of  the  Raven  we  never  heard  more.  Of  the  cholera  medi- 
cine, however,  we  came  to  know  a  great  deal,  for  about  this 
time,  the  dreadful  scourge  being  prevalent  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, and  the  people  being  frightened,  every  ail  that  afflicted 
them  they  ascribed  to  its  presence.  In  these  emergencies 
Mr.  Hayward  had  recourse  to  our  specific,  and  this  not 
always  advisedly;  for  it  was  very  hot  and  scalding  to  the 
mouth,  so  that  the  lips  of  those  who  used  it  were  in  a  con- 
stant state  of  irritation,  as  if  they  had  eaten  cranberries  or 
something  of  that  nature,  and  this  without  the  use  of  napkin 
or  similar  device. 

From  this  medicine  Mr.  Hayward  derived  great  profit;  for 
coming  down  shortly  with  the  disease,  he  would  take  nothing 
else,  and  happily  recovering  and  the  people  hearing  of  it,  they 
came  from  far  and  near  to  supply  themselves  with  the  remedy. 
Indeed,  the  sale  of  it  came  nigh  to  making  him  rich,  had  not 
losses  in  other  directions  about  that  time  offset  his  gains  from 
this  source.  Being  of  an  experimental  turn  of  mind,  he 
thought  to  try  the  specific  on  our  horses  and  cattle  in  cases  of 
colic,  and  this  with  great  success,  as  it  turned  out,  so  that 
from  that  time  on  we  were  saved  the  expense  of  veterinary 
surgeons  and  cow  doctors  in  respect  of  this  particular  malady. 
When  the  great  merit  of  the  medicine  became  apparent,  Mr. 
Hayward  told  me  how  he  acquired  it,  and  this  for  my  benefit, 
I  thought. 


372  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"The  man  was  not  much  inclined  to  dicker,  but  when 
I  told  him  he  must  give  boot,  he  began  to  prick  up  his  ears. 
Never  trade  even,  Gilbert,  though  it  is  only  a  jackknife. 
The  bargain  looks  more  attractive  to  the  other  if  you  claim 
your  goods  are  worth  the  most.  I  let  him  do  all  the  talking, 
too,  for  I  once  heard  of  a  man  who  grew  rich,  and  all  because 
he  stuttered.  Those  with  whom  he  dealt,  out  of  pity,  would 
talk  for  both  sides,  and  when  they  reached  a  point  that  made 
the  trade  attractive,  the  stutterer  would  close  the  deal.  Nor 
is  stuttering  so  much  of  an  affliction  otherwise  as  people 
think.  It  is  a  great  pity  it  is  so  easy  to  talk,  for  in  the  main 
it  doesn't  amount  to  anything.  If  you  are  not  inclined  to 
believe  me,  watch  the  first  two  men  you  see  together.  Neither 
listens  to  the  other,  unless  it  be  a  bit  of  gossip,  but  each  waits 
his  turn  to  speak,  and  not  always  patiently,  either.  Talking 
is  a  disease  with  many,  and  results  in  much  harm,  and  for  that 
reason  it  would  be  better,  I  think,  if  it  required  some  effort 
to  use  the  voice." 

Thus  by  trade  and  harmless  dicker,  such  as  I  have 
described,  Mr.  Hayward  added  to  the  earnings  of  the  ferry 
and  our  little  farm.  Of  the  last  the  soil  was  rich  beyond 
belief  from  the  overflow  of  the  river,  but  in  dickering  for  the 
land,  this  drainage,  Mr.  Hayward  pointed  out  to  the  seller, 
might  lessen  its  value,  because  of  the  baleful  effect  on  the 
health  of  those  who  worked  it.  Having,  however,  obtained 
possession  of  the  farm  at  a  fair  price,  it  turned  out  different 
from  what  he  had  thought. 

"The  overflow,"  he  was  in  the  habit  of  saying  afterward, 
"far  from  proving  injurious,  is  really  beneficial  in  this,  that  it 
purifies  and  sweetens  the  earth,  which  would  otherwise  become 
clogged  with  malarial  germs.  This  in  addition  to  greatly 
enriching  the  soil."  Thus  his  fears,  as  it  often  happens  in 
trade,  proved  groundless  once  the  bargain  was  struck  and 
resultant  benefits  clearly  seen. 

This  farm  Mr.  Hayward  and  I  looked  after  unaided,  save 
in  the  middle  summer,  when  possibly  some  patch  of  grain  was 


Making  the  Most  of  Things  373 

to  be  gathered  and  threshed.  Mostly  we  cultivated  corn,  as 
being  a  sure  crop,  and  afterward  affording  fodder  for  the  cattle 
and  much  choice  material  for  mattresses,  as  I  have  explained. 
As  our  work  took  us  some  distance  from  the  landing,  where 
we  could  not  hear  the  bell  on  the  farther  side  of  the  river, 
Mrs.  Hayward  contrived  a  way  out  of  the  difficulty,  and  very 
cunningly,  we  thought.  To  do  this,  she  caused  a  flagstaff  to 
be  erected  near  the  house,  and  here,  when  there  was  a  call 
for  the  ferry,  she  gave  us  notice  by  hoisting  a  signal.  If 
a  foot  passenger,  meaning  me,  the  flag  was  white;  if  a  team 
or  horseman,  and  requiring  the  big  boat  and  Mr.  Hayward's 
presence,  red  was  used.  Supplementary  to  these,  she  raised 
a  black  flag  to  tell  us  it  was  time  for  dinner  or  supper.  Black, 
she  would  say,  was  most  appropriate  for  this,  because  of  our 
great  appetites,  and  indeed  we  were  never  lacking  in  this 
respect.  Going  to  and  from  the  ferry  when  working  in  the 
field  we  considered  a  rest,  so  that  we  came  in  time  to  look 
forward  with  considerable  strife  to  see  which  flag,  the  red  or 
the  white,  was  raised  by  the  sweet  lady,  our  mistress,  at  the 
house. 


CHAPTER   XLVIII 

THE  CARRIERS 

At  night,  when  supper  was  over  and  Mr.  Hayward  had 
some  leisure  to  look  about,  he  was  in  the  habit  of  saying  that 
the  man  who  built  his  house,  whoever  he  might  be,  would  not 
have  ruined  himself  had  he  made  the  ceiling  a  log  or  two 
higher. 

"Nor  can  I  see,  for  the  life  of  me,"  he  would  add,  as  he 
surveyed  our  narrow  quarters,  "why  he  cut  the  logs  so  short, 
when  the  forest  is  full  of  fine  timber  he  could  have  had  for 
the  taking." 

Off  the  main  room,  and  there  was  but  one,  we  built 
a  kitchen,  and  beside  it  a  sleeping-room.  This  was  thought 
by  some  of  the  neighbors  to  indicate  growing  pride  and 
a  striving  after  luxury,  though  the  addition  sloped  to  the 
ground  so  fast  that  the  side  next  the  eaves  did  not  afford 
room  for  one  to  stand  upright.  This  inconvenience,  how- 
ever, we  did  not  much  regard,  a  little  stooping  now  and  then 
not  doing  any  one  harm.  The  attic  over  the  main  room  was 
mine,  to  do  with  as  I  pleased,  save  some  small  space  set  apart 
for  seed-corn  and  things  of  that  kind  in  winter.  It  was 
reached,  and  deftly  enough,  by  a  ladder  of  stout  poles,  which 
answered  the  purpose  perfectly,  and  had  the  great  merit, 
moreover,  of  taking  up  little  or  no  room.  My  bed  occupied 
one  corner,  and  lying  outstretched  my  nose  would  have 
scraped  the  shingles  had  it  been  an  inch  or  two  longer. 
These  shingles  were  neither  black  walnut  nor  cottonwood,  as 
you  may  think,  but  oak  clapboards  split  and  shaved  in  the  old 
way,  before  shingles  were  known  in  the  new  country.  If  they 
did  not  always  keep  out  the  water,  it  did  not  enter  in  any 
374 


The  Carriers  375 

great  quantity,  and  by  using  a  little  calculation  one  might 
avoid  it  entirely. 

The  room  was  greatly  to  my  fancy,  and  I  have  never  seen 
one  I  liked  so  well.  If  in  summer  it  was  sometimes  hot, 
because  of  proximity  to  the  roof,  air  might  always  be 
obtained  from  the  window  at  the  end;  and  as  for  light  and 
ventilation,  this  and  the  crevices  in  the  roof  afforded  all  that 
any  reasonable  person  could  desire.  What  was  best  about  it, 
though,  was  its  nearness  to  the  wind  and  rain.  For  lying 
upon  my  bed,  the  patter  and  swash  of  the  water  sounded 
directly  in  my  face,  and  when  the  wind  pushed  and  crowded 
about  the  house  it  was  not  at  some  far-off  place,  but  in  my 
very  ears.  Such  volume  and  artfulness  of  sound,  too,  words 
cannot  describe,  each  log  and  crevice  of  varying  size  answer- 
ing back  some  note  of  its  own  to  pouring  rain  or  driving  wind. 
Nowhere  else,  indeed,  have  I  heard,  or  ever  will,  such  sym- 
phonies; for  these  things  belong  to  our  youth,  and  come  not 
in  like  freshness  to  the  mind  or  wearied  body  of  more  mature 
years. 

It  was  the  river,  however,  that  attracted  me  most,  for 
there  was  no  end  to  its  beauty  and  variety.  In  rain  and  sun- 
shine, it  made  no  difference,  it  kept  its  way,  changing  with 
every  cloud  and  breath  of  air,  always  offering  some  new  and 
better  view.  Of  the  ferry,  Mr.  Hayward,  discarding  all  the 
devices  of  our  competitors,  adopted  in  their  place  a  method 
better  than  them  all ;  and  in  this  I  will  not  except  the  McDuffs, 
who  made  so  much  of  their  new-fangled  power  and  patent 
steering-gear.  Nothing  could  be  more  picturesque,  either, 
than  our  device.  For  going  up  the  river  a  little  way,  Mr. 
Hayward  attached  a  stout  wire  to  a  great  tree  that  grew  on 
an  island  there,  and  uncoiling  the  wire,  brought  it  down,  and 
connected  it  to  a  rope  fastened  to  each  end  of  the  great  boat. 
Drawing  this  rope  taut  at  the  prow,  the  latter  pointed  up  the 
stream,  and  so,  loosening  the  craft  from  the  shore,  the  cur- 
rent carried  it  swiftly  to  the  other  side.  Of  all  Mr.  Hay- 
ward's  methods  for  saving  labor  and  cutting  down  expenses 


376  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

not  one  exceeded  this,  I  thought.  To  prevent  the  wire  drag- 
ging in  the  water,  it  was  upheld  by  buoys,  and  these  always 
facing  about  in  the  direction  the  great  boat  was  going,  added 
to  the  beauty  and  animation  of  the  scene.  These  devices 
were  the  subject  of  much  ridicule  at  first,  and  more  especially 
on  the  part  of  the  McDuffs,  but  on  trial,  the  community  com- 
ing to  regard  them  with  favor,  the  subject  was  not  referred 
to  again. 

Of  the  doings  of  these  McDuffs  little  that  was  good  could 
be  said.  Not  only  were  they  innovators  in  respect  to  the  use 
of  steam,  but  given,  as  we  proved  more  than  once,  to  the  cut- 
ting of  rates  and  other  underhand  dealings  of  a  like  nature. 
Such  practices  Mr.  Hayward  despised  as  unworthy  of  com- 
mon carriers,  nor  would  he  be  a  party  to  them  in  any  way; 
unless,  indeed,  it  might  be  in  the  case  of  a  large  customer, 
but  then  only  sparingly  and  under  close  cover,  so  that  there 
could  be  no  known  excuse  save  weakness  or  pure  spite  for  the 
cutting  of  rates  on  the  part  of  others.  The  McDuffs  were 
also  given  to  misrepresenting  distances,  to  the  injury  of  our 
ferry,  so  far  as  their  stories  were  believed  by  the  simple- 
minded.  In  this  and  other  ways  they  were  a  constant  source 
of  irritation  and  injury  to  trade,  and  to  such  a  degree  that  as 
a  way  out  Mr.  Hayward,  with  great  circumspection  of  con- 
duct, finally  proposed  a  trust,  or  consolidation  of  the  proper- 
ties. This  project  came  nigh  to  happening,  too,  and  indeed 
was  thought  to  be  as  good  as  done,  when  word  of  it  somehow 
came  to  the  ears  of  the  public.  Upon  this  the  community 
flew  into  a  rage,  accusing  us  of  monopolistic  tendencies  and 
other  and  worse  things,  so  that  in  the  end  the  undertaking 
fell  through.  In  the  warfare  that  was  made  upon  us  at  this 
time,  strangely  enough  the  most  bitter  were  those  who  never 
made  any  use  of  the  ferry  to  speak  of.  This  I  could  not 
understand  until  Mr.  Hayward  explained  it. 

"There  are  a  lot  of  people  who  lie  awake  nights  watching 
and  listening  lest  the  public  suffer  some  wrong.  These  guar- 
dians, as  a  rule,  never  achieve  anything  themselves,  and  in 


The  Carriers  377 

the  end  are  buried  at  the  expense  of  their  friends.  In  every 
case  they  are  impracticable  people,  with  little  or  no  knowledge 
of  affairs.  Well  meaning  enough,  they  will  pull  a  house  down 
to  straighten  the  lightning-rod,  or  destroy  a  garment  to 
remove  a  stain.  The  trouble  is  they  lack  sense.  With  skulls 
big  enough  to  hold  a  squash,  they  have  nothing  to  fill  the 
space  save  surmises  and  suspicions." 

We  were  always  of  the  firm  opinion  that  the  McDuffs  had 
made  known  Mr.  Hayward's  efforts  to  consolidate  the  proper- 
ties, and  this  to  discredit  us  with  the  public,  for  grievously 
we  suffered  from  the  falling  off  of  traffic  that  followed.  This 
until,  happily,  the  wife  of  the  mayor  of  Appletop  bringing 
forth  triplets,  and  all  boys,  the  mind  of  the  community  was 
diverted  for  the  moment.  As  it  would  happen,  too,  an  acci- 
dent occurring  about  the  same  time  at  the  McDuffs',  whereby 
a  passenger  lost  his  life — a  thing  Mr.  Hayward  had  clearly 
foretold — we  came  again  into  our  share  of  the  business,  and 
kept  it.  Mr.  Hayward,  however,  was  ever  very  sore  on  the 
subject. 

"The  consolidation  was  clearly  in  the  interest  of  the  peo- 
ple," he  would  say  in  speaking  of  it.  '4They  would  have  had 
only  one  family  to  support  instead  of  two,  as  at  present,  and 
reduction  in  tolls  would  surely  have  followed  sooner  or  later. 
Why,  except  for  such  things  mankind  would  be  eating  roots 
to-day  and  living  in  caves.  Affairs  of  state"  have  felt  this 
most  of  all,  for  one  government  answers  now  where  there 
were  myriads  at  one  time.  Thus  England  has  but  one  ruler, 
where  she  once  had  fifty  to  support,  with  all  their  hungry  fol- 
lowers.. There  was  consolidation  ^for  you  with  a  vengeance, 
'  and  it  has  been  so  with  every  country  on  the  globe.  So  it 
will  be  with  many  industries.  You  may  be  sure,  though,  that 
not  one  little  despot  was  ever  tumbled  from  his  throne  with- 
out the  people  raising  a  cry  that  they  were  being  enslaved." 

"Has  everything  been  done  that  will  be  in  this  direction?" 
a  chance  traveler  asked  one  day,  hearing  what  Mr.  Hayward 
said. 


378  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"No;  it  will  go  on  until  each  continent  has  but  one  gov- 
ernment, and  in  the  end  all  will  be  merged." 

"Which  people  will  dominate?"  the  traveler  inquired,  as 
if  quizzing  him. 

"The  most  vigorous  and  the  wisest.  The  nations  we 
know,  however,  will  all  have  disappeared  ere  then,  it  is  prob- 
able. No  one  can  tell." 

Thus  Mr.  Hayward  would  go  on  by  the  hour  when  the 
subject  of  interference  with  natural  laws  was  spoken  of,  and 
nothing  could  stop  him. 

Among  other  things  that  favored  our  ferry  was  a  certain 
romantic  fancy  that  attached  to  it.  Thus  the  little  buoys, 
skimming  the  water  like  ducklings,  never  failed  to  attract  the 
attention  and  elicit  the  admiration  of  those  who  crossed.  Of 
our  signaling  devices,  they  were  very  simple;  two  strokes  of 
the  bell  indicated  a  horse  or  wagon,  one  a  foot  passenger. 
The  last  fell  to  me,  and  because  of  it,  I  became  in  time  very 
expert  in  handling  the  small  boat,  never  failing,  as  good  for- 
tune would  have  it,  to  bring  my  passenger  safely  to  shore. 
Our  landing-places,  too,  were  exceedingly  picturesque,  and 
caused  the  more  sentimental  no  end  of  foolish  talk.  On  the 
side  where  we  lived  hawthorns  and  elder  covered  the  banks 
and  edges  of  the  river,  and  on  the  other  shore  two  great  elms 
guarded  the  approach.  These  last  were  remarkable  in  their 
way,  and  because  of  it  added  considerable  to  our  earnings. 
One  was  of  great  height  and  grand  to  look  upon  from 
a  distance,  but  the  other,  stopping  midway,  as  if  tired  of 
striving  to  keep  pace  with  its  neighbor,  reached  out  its 
limbs  in  every  direction  in  the  most  picturesque  and  pathetic 
way,  as  if  inviting  alms.  This  tree  was  called  the  Penitent, 
and  the  other,  because  of  its  stateliness  and  dearth  of  shade, 
the  Pharisee.  The  trees  were  given  these  names  at  first  in 
idle  fancy  by  a  customer  of  ours,  a  devout  woman  much  given 
to  snuff  and  gossip;  but  the  cunningness  of  the  fancy  tickling 
her  greatly,  she  gave  it  the  widest  publicity,  so  that  in  time 
travelers  came  miles  out  of  their  way  to  view  the  curiosity 


The  Carriers  379 

and  comment  upon  it.  Because  of  this  and  the  good  lady's 
attendance  upon  covenant  meetings  and  the  like,  Mr.  Hay- 
ward,  who  was  not  lacking  in  sentiment,  reduced  her  fare 
one-half.  This,  like  most  things  he  did,  proved  a  great  stroke 
of  business  in  the  end,  for  now  she  visited  Appletop  twice  as 
often  as  before,  and  in  her  journeyings  to  and  fro  never  tired 
of  speaking  of  the  beauties  of  our  ferry  and  its  fine  location 
and  good  business  management. 

"A  queer  woman,  that,"  Mr.  Hayward  one* day  remarked 
as  I  came  up  from  the  landing  after  setting  her  ashore,  "and 
tending  to  show  that  what  people  think,  they  will  do.  If  her 
name,  now,  had  been  something  beside  Snuffe,  she  would 
never  have  thought  of  using  the  stuff  as  she  does." 

"Why,  what  has  that  to  do  with  it?"  I  asked,  not  seeing 
the  connection. 

"After  she  got  married,  much  thinking  of  the  name  of 
Snuffe,  and  some  worrying  about  it,  she  says,  caused  her  to 
help  herself  to  a  pinch  now  and  then  out  of  pure  perversity 
of  spirit,  until  in  the  end  she  got  to  like  it,  so  that  now  she 
can  scarce  finish  a  prayer  without  a  sly  dip  into  her  bag." 

"Her  husband  might  have  changed  his  name;  he  would 
not  have  had  to  look  far  for  a  better  one,"  I  answered,  to  see 
what  he  would  say. 

"Oh,  Snuffe  is  as  good  as  any,  and  the  family  will  be 
a  power  in  the  land  some  day.  The  old  man  will  not  eat  any- 
thing he  can  find  a  market  for,  and  there  is  no  surer  way  to 
get  on  than  that  if  one  has  the  patience  to  stick  to  it." 

Constance,  who  was  always  in  my  thoughts,  I  grew  to  love 
more  and  more  as  the  years  passed,  and  as  Mrs.  Hayward  had 
her  much  at  our  house,  scarce  a  day  went  by  without  my 
seeing  her.  When  she  stayed  to  supper,  which  was  often  the 
case,  I  would  take  her  home;  and  of  these  journeyings 
I  remember  every  one,  and  what  we  said,  which  was  not 
much,  for  we  were  but  little  given  to  speech  when  in  each 
other's  company.  Her  visits  clotbed  our  little  home  with 
such  a  halo  of  romance  and  delight,  that  my  heart  swells  to 


380  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

this  day  when  I  think  of  it.  For  my  belief  in  her  knew  no 
bounds,  and,  like  my  love,  grew  stronger  as  we  grew  to  be 
man  and  woman.  This  not  strangely,  for  at  sixteen  she  was 
such  perfection  of  loveliness  that  there  was  no  joy  like  that 
of  being  near  her,  and  if  I  but  touched  her  hand,  heaven  itself, 
I  thought,  could  not  convey  greater  happiness.  Yet,  strangely 
enough,  I  could  not  have  told  the  color  of  her  eyes,  if  indeed 
they  were  always  the  same,  which  I  knew  they  were  not. 
Nor  could  I  have  described  her  mouth,  except  that  it  expressed 
such  tenderness  that  its  like  was  never  seen  before.  Of  her 
face  this  I  know,  that  it  was  oval,  but  of  her  complexion,  it 
was  of  such  delicacy  of  white  and  pink  that  no  one  could 
describe  it,  nor  have  conceived  anything  so  perfect.  Her 
hair,  too,  like  her  eyes,  could  not  be  described,  but  was  ever 
taking  on  some  different  phase  or  color,  so  that  if  you  thought 
you  knew  its  every  shade  of  loveliness,  some  new  light  or 
manner  of  arrangement  would  add  beauties  to  it  not  before 
dreamed  of.  Such,  you  must  know,  was  Constance,  my  sweet 
love,  at  the  time  of  which  I  speak. 


CHAPTER   XLIX 

THE  BETROTHAL 

Amid  surroundings  such  as  I  have  described  three  years 
passed,  and  happily  for  me,  and  to  my  great  good  then  and 
for  all  time.  Indeed,  I  do  not  look  back  to  any  period  of  my 
life  with  greater  pleasure,  for  it  was  filled  with  Constance  and 
thoughts  of  her  and  nothing  else.  My  bed,  once  too  long, 
was  now  too  short,  yet  I  would  not  change  it  in  any  way. 
Lying  there,  the  pattering  rain  sang  of  my  love,  and  at  night 
the  sighing  and  chattering  wind  lulled  me  to  sleep  with 
thoughts  of  her. 

Thus  I  lay  one  midsummer  night,  listening  to  the  whir  and 
beating  of  a  great  storm  that  had  come  up  suddenly  from  out 
the  south,  after  the  day  had  closed.  Above  the  roar  of  the 
wind  and  the  splash  of  the  water  on  the  roof,  I  could  plainly 
hear  the  wash  of  the  river  as  it  beat  on  our  shore,  and  this  as 
if  to  add  to  the  strength  and  rhythm  of  the  storm.  If  by 
chance  the  wind  abated  for  a  moment,  the  rain  fell  anew,  and 
in  torrents,  as  if  the  deluge  were  come  again.  Then,  it  in 
turn  showing  some  pause,  the  wind  would  spring  up  afresh, 
and  in  such  fury  that  the  windows  and  logs  of  the  house  trem- 
bled as  if  shaken  by  an  earthquake. 

While  I  lay  thus  listening,  not  caring  to  sleep,  and  in  such 
comfort  of  position  and  delight  of  mind  that  movement  of  any 
kind  was  like  pain,  there  came  to  me  above  the  tumult  of  the 
tempest,  faintly  and  far  off  like  an  echo,  the  dull  boom  of  the 
Penitent's  bell.  But  that  could  hardly  be,  for  surely  no  one 
would  venture  abroad  on  such  a  night!  Thinking  thus,  I  lay 
still,  and  in  a  little  while  it  came  again,  and  plaintively,  the 
like  of  which  I  had  never  heard  before.  There  could  be  no 
381 


382  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

mistake  now;  it  was  the  Penitent's  bell  calling,  and  nothing 
else!  Still  I  did  not  move.  The  storm  was  too  great,  and 
no  boat  could  live  in  it  a  minute!  Then  let  the  great  tree 
shelter  its  guest,  for  there  was  no  other  way.  Turning 
uneasily  on  my  bed,  the  signal  came  again  and  stronger, 
booming  above  the  swash  of  the  water  and  the  rush  of  the 
wind  as  if  it  were  the  voice  of  some  one  crying  out  in  anguish 
of  body  and  mind,  not  far  off  nor  vaguely  now,  but  high  and 
resounding,  as  if  tolling  for  the  dead  or  dying.  Frightened, 
I  sat  bolt  upright;  and  soon  it  came  to  me  again,  and  with 
greater  stress  of  melancholy,  if  that  were  possible.  Trem- 
bling, unable  to  withstand  the  call  longer,  I  sprang  up,  and 
putting  on  my  garments,  quickly  found  my  way  to  the  floor 
below.  Those  resting  there  had  not  heard  the  summons,  and 
so  leaving  them  undisturbed,  I  opened  the  door  and  stepped 
out  into  the  night.  At  this,  and  as  if  watching  my  coming, 
the  wind,  rising  to  new  fury,  tossed  me  here  and  there  so  that 
I  could  scarce  keep  my  feet.  Above,  there  was  some  glimpse 
of  light  in  the  leaden  sky,  but  about  me  only  inky  darkness 
and  the  circling  wind  and  falling  rain.  As  I  stood  clutching 
a  tree,  loath  to  go  on,  the  boom  of  the  bell  came  again,  and 
as  if  with  new  import  and  stress  of  haste.  No  longer  hesitat- 
ing, I  hurried  on,  listening  as  I  ran;  and  now,  I  know  not 
why,  stricken  with  a  chill,  as  if  somehow  its  tolling  meant 
harm  to  me  or  those  I  loved. 

Reaching  the  boat,  and  emptying  it  of  water,  I  fixed  the 
oars  in  their  place,  and  without  thought  shoved  it  into  the 
stream.  At  this,  the  wind  and  waves  taking  it  up  in  their 
arms  as  if  it  were  a  plaything,  hurled  it  back  upon  me,  and 
with  such  force  that  I  came  nigh  to  being  crushed  with  its 
weight.  Awaiting  a  more  favorable  moment,  I  sprang  into 
the  boat,  and  doing  so,  pushed  it  into  the  boiling  water. 
Little,  however,  could  I  do  now  that  I  was  afloat  and  held 
the  oars,  for,  enveloped  in  darkness,  the  waves  flying  before 
the  storm  so  tossed  me  about  that  effort  to  make  headway 
was  lost  in  striving  to  keep  afloat.  Then  the  wind,  veering 


The  Betrothal  383 

with  the  windings  of  the  river  or  overhanging  trees,  bewilder- 
ing me,  I  was  fain  to  sit  still  and  wait  some  clew  to  guide  me. 
This  the  stream  would  have  done,  but  tossed  by  the  wind,  it 
lost  its  force,  so  that  I  could  not  tell  which  way  it  ran,  if 
indeed  it  had  any  direction  at  all. 

While  thus  striving  to  make  headway,  the  Penitent's 
bell  came  to  me  across  the  splashing  water,  but  now  at 
longer  intervals  and  indistinctly,  as  if  those  who  rang  it 
were  faint  or  dying.  Chilled  by  its  stroke,  it  yet  helped 
to  guide  me,  so  that  I  struggled  on  the  more  hopefully 
because  of  it.  In  this  way  I  after  a  while  reached  the 
middle  of  the  stream,  and  now  I  made  greater  headway; 
but  going  on,  the  bell  grew  faint,  and  then  at  last  ceased 
its  tolling  altogether.  Filled  with  new  fear  lest  losing  its 
guidance  I  should  after  all  go  astray,  I  put  forth  all  my 
strength  to  gain  the  farther  shore.  Of  sign  of  it,  however, 
or  other  thing,  save  the  spray  of  the  white-topped  waves  as 
they  swept  over  me  and  across  the  boat,  there  was  none. 
Nor  could  I  hear  any  sound  save  the  whir  of  the  wind  and  the 
churning  of  the  waves  as  they  beat  against  the  boat  or  fell 
back  into  the  angry  stream.  Going  on,  with  scarce  anything 
to  guide  me,  I  came  at  last  within  the  shadow  of  the  forest, 
feeling  which  I  gave  a  shout.  For,  listening,  I  could  now 
plainly  hear  the  water  as  it  beat  against  the  shore,  and  above 
it  the  roar  of  the  wind  as  the  trees  bent  beneath  its  force. 
Putting  forth  all  my  strength  anew,  the  boat  in  a  moment 
grated  high  on  the  shelving  beach,  and  I  was  safe. 

Thanking  God  for  my  deliverance,  I  sprang  ashore,  and 
keeping  hold,  stood  still.  Hearing  nothing,  I  called,  but  to 
this  there  was  no  response,  save  the  confusion  and  tumult  of 
the  storm.  Not  knowing  if  I  were  above  or  below  the  land- 
ing, I  fastened  my  boat  and  hurried  forward,  and  this  fortu- 
nately; for  I  had  gone  but  a  little  way  when  I  came 
upon  the  beaten  road  thfat  led  from  the  shore  back  into 
the  country.  Springing  up  the  bank,  I  stood  beside  the 
Penitent,  and  now  for  the  first  time  some  measure  of 


384  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

fear  seized  me.  For,  save  the  gurgling  water  and  the 
moan  of  the  wind,  as  if  spirits  filled  the  air,  no  sound 
reached  my  waiting  ear.  Listening,  I  presently  called,  but 
without  response  or  movement  of  any  kind.  Steadying 
myself,  I  stood  still,  holding  the  swaying  rope,  and  doing  so, 
a  sigh  came  to  my  strained  ears,  and  this  from  off  the  ground 
at  my  very  feet.  Or  was  it  merely  some  trick  of  the  storm 
and  pushing  wind?  Groping  about,  my  outstretched  hands 
came  in  contact  with  the  face  of  some  one  lying  prostrate  on 
the  ground,  and  damp  and  icy  cold,  as  if  life  had  fled.  Too 
agitated  to  speak,  I  knelt  and  lifted  the  body  on  my  knees, 
and  doing  so,  discovered  it  to  be  a  woman.  Pushing  back 
the  damp  hair,  I  stroked  her  face  and  hands,  but  for  a  long 
time  in  vain.  This  until  I  was  losing  hope,  when  she  sighed 
again — or  was  it  a  sob  instead?  Overjoyed,  I  put  my  arms 
about  her  and  raised  her  up,  crying: 

"Cheer  up,  dear  lady;  help  has  come  and  you  are 
saved!" 

Upon  this  she  gave  a  cry,  and  lifting  her  arms  they  caught 
about  my  neck,  but  as  if  life  had  left  her  with  the  effort. 

"Oh,  God,  my  sweet  love!  Constance!"  I  cried,  half  dead 
with  fright;  for  it  was  she  I  held  in  my  arms,  and  no  one  else. 
Bereft  of  my  senses,  I  clasped  her  to  my  breast,  calling  to 
her  again  and  again,  and  entreatingly,  and  by  every  pet  name 
I  could  think  of,  but  without  response  of  any  kind.  This  for 
a  long  time,  until  regaining  some  presence  of  mind,  I  fell  to 
stroking  her  hands  and  face,  covering  them  with  kisses  as 
I  worked.  Sighing  after  a  while,  she  murmured  my  name, 
but  with  such  faintness  I  thought  she  was  dying. 

"Constance,  my  darling,  my  sweet  love,  speak  to  me! 
You  must  not  die  now  that  I  have  come  to  save  you." 

Struggling  to  regain  her  strength,  she  answered,  but  oh! 
so  softly: 

"How  dear  of  you,  Gilbert,  to  come  to  me." 

"Come  to  you,  Constance;  had  I  known  you  were  here, 
the  thought  would  have  killed  me." 


The  Betrothal  385 

"I  expected  Mr.  Hayward  would  answer,  and  you  came 
instead — and  oh,  the  peril  of  it!  When  I  heard  your  voice 
I  thought  I  was  dying,  my  happiness  was  so  great." 

"I  was  never  in  any  danger,  Constance.  I  heard  the  bell, 
but  would  not  stir.  Then  it  drew  me  on  in  spite  of  myself, 
as  if  some  danger  threatened,  I  knew  not  what." 

"It  was  I  calling,  as  I  stood  reaching  out  across  the  dark 
water;  but  at  last,  thinking  my  summons  was  not  heard, 
I  knew  no  more  till  I  found  your  arms  about  me." 

"I  ought  to  have  reached  you  sooner,  sweet  love,  but  the 
waves  tossed  me  about  so  that  I  thought  I  should  never  find 
the  shore.  Had  I  known  you  were  lying  here,  I  should  have 
leaped  into  the  river  to  reach  you  sooner." 

"How  good  of  you,  Gilbert;  and  you  will  always  come  to 
me?"  she  answered,  softly. 

"Yes,  Constance,  and  you  know  why.  Because  I  love 
you,  love  you,  love  you,  dearest,  above  everything  on  earth, 
and  always  have  and  will ;  and  you,  Constance,  say  that  you 
love  me,  for  this  you  have  never  done." 

"You  know  I  love  you,  Gilbert,"  she  answered,  after 
a  while,  clinging  closer  about  my  neck;  "and  if  you  did  not 
love  me  as  you  do,  I  should  not  want  to  live.  I  love  you 
above  everything,  and  you  are  in  my  thoughts  day  and  night, 
you  sweet  boy";  and  with  that  she  took  my  face  in  her  hands 
and  drawing  me  to  her  kissed  me  many  times. 

"I  am  always  thinking  of  you,  too,  dearest,  and  of  what 
you  do  and  say,  and  how  you  look  and  what  will  please  you. 
Now  I  can't  tell  you  how  happy  I  am  to  hear  you  say  you  love 
me,"  I  cried,  covering  her  face  and  hair  with  my  kisses, 
happy  beyond  anything  I  had  ever  dreamed  of. 

Thus  we  plighted  our  troth  beneath  the  great  tree,  not 
thinking  where  we  were,  nor  caring  for  the  storm,  which  now, 
indeed,  was  fast  dying  away.  Soon,  however,  and  as  if 
startled  out  of  herself,  she  sprang  up. 

"Oh,  Gilbert,  I  can  never  forgive  myself,  to  have  forgotten 
what  I  came  for  in  the  happiness  of  being  with  you.  Quick — 


3  86  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

come  with  me,"  she  cried,  saying  which,  she  grasped  my 
hand  and  drew  me  toward  the  forest. 

"Why,  what  is  it,  Constance?  I  have  never  thought  to 
ask  what  brought  you  here." 

"Nor  I  to  tell  you,  Gilbert;  but  yesterday,  papa  and 
I  going  into  the  country,  and  night  coming  on,  we  thought  to 
return  by  the  other  ferry;  but  reaching  it,  some  accident  to 
the  boat  prevented  our  crossing,  and  so  we  had  to  retrace  our 
steps,  and  the  night  and  the  storm  coming  on,  our  horse 
strayed  from  the  road,  throwing  us  into  the  ditch.  When 
I  found  papa  he  lay  like  one  dead,  nor  could  I  bring  him  to, 
and  after  striving  for  a  long  time  in  vain,  I  at  last  thought 
to  come  here  for  help." 

"Oh,  you  sweet  love,  to  be  in  such  distress  and  I  not 
know  it!"  I  cried,  lifting  her  arm  and  kissing  the  sleeve  of 
her  dress. 

"Yes;  but  we  must  make  greater  haste,"  she  answered, 
hurrying  forward. 

"Is  it  far?"  I  asked,  that  I  might  hear  her  sweet  voice. 

"I  don't  know;  the  way  seemed  long,  but  I  was  frightened 
and  often  strayed  from  the  road." 

"No  one  but  you  would  have  had  such  courage,  my  brave 
little  wife,  for  that  you  will  be  some  day,  sweetheart." 

To  this  she  made  no  response  save  to  press  my  hand  as 
we  hurried  on.  Now  losing  the  road  in  the  darkness,  and 
regaining  it  only  to  lose  it  again,  we  made  so  little  headway 
that  I  thought  we  never  should  reach  him  we  sought.  Going 
on,  we  after  a  while  stopped,  affrighted  lest  we  had  passed  him 
in  the  darkness.  While  standing  in  this  way  and  straining 
our  ears  to  catch  some  sound,  we  heard  the  neighing  of  a  horse 
a  little  way  ahead.  At  this  we  went  on  again,  and  coming  to 
the  spot,  were  overjoyed  to  hear  Mr.  Seymour's  voice  in 
answer  to  our  call.  Hastening  to  where  he  lay,  we  found  him 
as  Constance  had  said,  but  now  able  to  speak.  Kneeling  and 
taking  his  head  in  her  lap,  she  stroked  his  hair  and  face,  and 
I,  gathering  hold  of  his  hands  and  body,  so  rubbed  and 


The  Betrothal  387 

worked  over  them  that  in  a  little  while  he  was  able  to  move. 
Hunting  up  the  robes,  I  placed  them  under  and  about  him; 
and  presently,  the  day  breaking,  we  were  able  to  do  still  bet- 
ter. In  this  way,  through  our  aid  and  by  his  own  efforts,  Mr. 
Seymour  was  soon  on  his  feet.  For  he  was  not  much  hurt, 
but  the  shock  being  great,  had  for  a  long  time  rendered  him 
unconscious. 

When  he  was  somewhat  recovered,  I  brought  the  horse, 
and  stripping  off  the  harness,  we  put  Mr.  Seymour  on  his 
back,  and  in  this  way,  Constance  and  I  walking  on  either 
side,  we  made  our  way  to  the  ferry.  Mr.  Hayward,  who 
was  already  abroad,  hearing  the  Penitent's  summons,  soon 
came  to  our  aid,  and  great  was  his  surprise  at  discover- 
ing me  and  the  danger  he  imagined  I  had  escaped.  For  Con- 
stance quickly  told  him  all  that  had  happened,  adding  many 
things  that  did  not  amount  to  anything,  so  determined  was 
she  to  make  the  most  of  my  adventure.  This  greatly  dis- 
turbed Mr.  Hayward,  for  in  all  things  he  was  a  very  tender- 
hearted man  indeed.  In  proof  of  this,  I  must  tell  you,  I  have 
known  him  many  a  time,  when  worn  out  with  work,  to  go 
a  great  way  to  watch  at  night  by  the  bedside  of  some  poor 
person  in  distress  who  would  not,  except  for  him,  have  had 
any  care  whatever.  This  for  many  nights  together,  and 
uncomplainingly,  and  he  worn  out,  as  I  say.  Nor  was  he  back- 
ward in  giving  outright  when  need  be,  and  I  have  in  this  way 
seen  a  whole  month's  gains  from  the  ferry  or  some  Specialty 
of  ours  vanish  in  a  moment.  This  I  tell  you  lest  you  should 
mistake  his  character  from  what  I  have  said  concerning  him. 
Indeed,  I  have  never  known  a  man  so  generous  or  tender  of 
heart  as  he. 

Hastening  to  the  boat,  we  quickly  reached  the  opposite 
shore,  and  in  a  minute  were  safe  in  our  little  home.  Here 
Mrs.  Hayward  taking  charge  of  Constance,  soon  had  her 
arrayed  in  dry  garments;  and  if  they  were  too  long  and  some- 
what too  large,  it  did  not  matter,  for  never  did  woman  look 
more  lovely  than  the  sweet  maid  as  she  entered  the  room. 


388  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

Indeed,  I  thought  the  quaintness  of  the  dress,  if  anything, 
added  to  her  beauty  and  the  gentle  modesty  of  her  demeanor. 
While  Constance  was  being  looked  to  in  the  way  I  say,  Mr. 
Hayward  busied  himself  with  her  father,  afterward  giving 
him  some  bitters  with  a  dash  of  the  cholera  mixture,  where- 
upon Mr.  Seymour  declared  himself  as  good  as  new.  Thus 
was  brought  to  a  happy  ending  a  most  eventful  night,  and 
memorable  above  all  others  because  of  Constance's  confes- 
sion that  she  loved  me.  For  there  can  be  no  doubt  whatever 
but  that  the  happiest  moment  in  every  man's  life  is  that  in 
which  the  woman  he  loves  confesses  that  she  loves  him  in 
return.  All  other  things,  I  must  believe,  are  as  naught  and 
not  worth  mentioning  in  comparison  with  this  sweet  boon. 


CHAPTER   L 

UNDER  THE  WIDESPREADING  HAWTHORNS 

Some  days  after,  as  I  was  pulling  my  boat  home  from  the 
Iowa  shore,  thinking  of  Constance  and  watching  the  Penitent 
as  it  reflected  its  graceful  foliage  in  the  dark  waters  of  the 
great  river,  a  voice  I  knew  and  loved  hailed  me  from  the 
landing  I  was  fast  approaching.  Pretending  not  to  hear,  it 
called  again,  and  louder  than  before,  and  with  such  sweetness 
and  cheerfulness  of  life  that  it  made  my  heart  beat  the  faster 
to  hear  it. 

"Gilbert!  Gilbert!  Gilbert!" 

Turning  about  as  if  hearing  for  the  first  time,  I  saw  Con- 
stance standing  in  the  shade  of  the  hawthorns,  holding  some- 
thing aloft  in  her  hand. 

"Hurry  up,  you  lazy  boy!  See!  I  have  a  letter  for  you," 
she  cried,  waving  it  above  her  head  and  turning  about  at  the 
same  time  as  if  to  go  away. 

"Wait;  don't  go;  I'll  be  there  in  a  minute,"  I  called 
back.  Then,  that  I  might  be  near  her  and  not  because  of  the 
letter,  I  lengthened  my  stroke,  and  put  such  strength  into  my 
arms  that  in  a  few  seconds  my  boat  shot  into  the  soft  bank 
near  which  she  stood. 

Springing  ashore,  I  clasped  her  in  my  arms,  but  not  in 
a  way  to  shock  any  one's  modesty,  for  of  all  the  cunning  bow- 
ers Nature  ever  formed  for  lovers  this  was  the  fittest.  Look- 
ing out  on  the  great  river,  but  apart,  it  was  a  place  to  seek, 
or  to  make  the  most  of  if  by  chance  you  met  your  love  there, 
as  in  my  case.  Having  many  things  to  say,  as  lovers  do,  and 
will  till  the  world  ends,  her  errand  was  forgotten;  but  after 
a  while  recalling  it — if  that  was  really  the  thing  that  brought 
389 


39°  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

her — she  gave  me  the  letter,  and  together  we  fell  to  examin- 
ing its  superscription  and  seal,  wondering  the  while  who  it 
was  from  and  what  it  was  all  about.  In  this  way  our  faces 
touched  and  our  hands  came  in  contact  and  lingered,  loath  to 
part,  but  not  strangely,  and  as  lovers  should,  you  will  say. 
There  was  no  need  of  haste,  it  was  plain,  and,  moreover,  the 
getting  of  a  letter  was  a  thing  to  be  treated  with  some  for- 
mality. For,  except  as  Uncle  Job  or  Aunt  Betty  may  have 
written  me,  I  had  never  received  such  a  thing  before  in  all  my 
life.  The  day,  too,  was  one  to  invite  idleness,  and  of  lovers 
more  especially.  Above  our  heads  great  clouds,  white  as 
snow,  floated  slowly  across  the  broad  expanse,  and  on  the 
bosom  of  the  majestic  river,  a  ripple  here  and  a  calm  there, 
or  maybe  a  bit  of  shadow,  added  to  the  placid  beauty  of  the 
surroundings.  About  us  soft  winds  stirred  the  leaves  of  the 
listening  hawthorns,  and  from  out  the  thicket  beyond  the  road 
a  thrush,  awakened  to  life  by  our  close  proximity,  called  in 
impassioned  notes  for  its  absent  mate. 

Lying  outstretched  on  the  yielding  turf,  I  asked  Constance 
to  open  the  letter,  and  this  that  I  might  the  better  look  upon 
her  and  listen  to  her  sweet  voice  while  she  read.  No  way 
suspecting  my  reason  for  asking,  the  missive  presently  lay 
open  in  her  lap;  and  in  those  days,  you  must  know,  letters 
were  not  hidden  away  in  wrappers  as  now,  but  folded  and 
sealed  and  the  address  inserted  in  some  nook  or  corner  left  for 
the  purpose.  When  she  had  torn  the  letter  apart,  we  looked 
it  over,  but  without  deciphering  any  word  till  we  reached  the 
end,  and  there,  coming  to  the  name,  we  were  so  startled  at 
what  we  saw  that  our  heads  came  together  with  a  bump  as 
we  exclaimed  with  one  voice:  "Aunt  Jane!"  Yes,  Aunt  Jane; 
for  printed  matter  never  was  plainer,  and  this  notwithstand- 
ing some  tremor  of  the  letters  as  if  they  had  been  put  down 
with  labor,  if  not  with  pain.  Astonished,  we  looked  into  each 
other's  faces,  for  nothing  so  surprising  as  this  had  ever  hap- 
pened before  to  either  of  us.  Glancing  above  the  signature, 


Under  the  Widespreading  Hawthorns          391 

our  eyes  caught  the  closing  words,  "With  tender  love,"  and 
seeing  this,  I  cried  out: 

"What  can  it  mean,  Constance?  Surely  something  strange 
must  have  happened!  Read  what  it  says,  and  from  the 
beginning!" 

Smoothing  out  the  paper,  she  did  as  I  asked,  and  this  is 
the  sad  message  the  letter  contained: 

"Dying,  my  child,  I  may  at  last  speak  out  my  soul's  wish 
as  it  is  and  has  been  from  the  first,  concealing  nothing  nor 
adding  a  word.  My  heart  is  now  too  weak,  too  yearning,  too 
inexpressibly  sad,  to  longer  harbor  reserve  or  any  mystery  of 
life.  Sickness  and  tears  and  years  of  tender  longing,  my 
child,  for  you,  my  next  of  kin,  have  melted  it;  and  now,  com- 
ing to  the  end  of  my  days,  I  may,  all  too  late,  speak  as  I  am, 
and  was  even  in  the  old  time  when  your  father  and  mother 
were  yet  alive.  Of  my  coldness,  oh,  believe  me!  it  was  never 
real,  but  only  a  cloak,  a  shadowy  thing  put  on  without  thought. 
For  it  had  no  real  substance,  but  hid  my  heart,  and  foolishly, 
to  my  life's  undoing.  I  have  no  one  but  you,  my  child,  and 
dying  I  am  alone  and  forsaken,  for  only  the  walls  of  my  house 
answer  back  my  call  for  love  and  sympathy.  Surely,  if  I  have 
sinned  through  pride  and  in  hiding  my  heart  from  you  and 
those  who  sleep  in  their  graves,  I  have  suffered  and  am  pun- 
ished beyond  bearing.  You  could  have  loved  me,  and  your 
sweet-faced  mother  ever  'sought  to  win  from  me  some  show 
of  tenderness;  but  erring,  I  put  off  the  day  of  yielding  until 
it  was  too  late.  Now  I  am  as  one  abandoned  in  the  world, 
for  when  you  come  to  die  only  those  of  your  own  blood  Can 
respond  to  your  heart's  yearnings.  Sweet  child,  if  you  can 
yet  conjure  up  some  shadow  of  kindness  for  your  poor  aunt, 
come  to  her  in  her  sickness  and  loneliness,  that  she  may  press 
you  to  her  heart  and  have  you  by  her  when  she  yields  her  life 
to  God.  For  believe  me,  her  persecution,  as  you  thought, 
was  but  her  love  and  striving  for  your  welfare,  but  oh,  how 
mistakenly  conveyed,  as  all  her  acts  have  been  from  the 


The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

beginning.     Then  forgive  and  pity  her,  sweet  one,  and  hasten 
if  you  would  let  her  see  you  before  she  dies." 

Tears  ran  down  our  faces  long  ere  Constance  had  finished 
reading,  for  of  its  truthfulness  we  had  no  shadow  of  doubt. 

"Surely,  she  has  been  punished,  if  she  has  erred,"  Con- 
stance at  last  said,  as  she  took  up  the  letter  again. 

"Yes;  and  how  I  have  mistaken  her  all  these  years," 
I  mourned,  for  I  could  not  now  doubt  her  love  and  affection. 

"You  can't  be  blamed,  Gilbert,  for  she  made  no  sign," 
Constance  answered,  as  if  to  comfort  me;  "but  how  lonely 
her  life  must  have  been,  and  how  greatly  she  has  suffered." 

"Had  I  gone  to  her  as  I  ought,  her  coldness  would  have 
quickly  given  place  to  show  of  love;  and  it  is  I,  not  she,  who 
should  ask  forgiveness,"  I  answered,  remembering  with  shame 
the  scant  respect  I  had  shown  her. 

"You  were  not  in  fault,  Gilbert,  for  she  being  older  and 
wiser  should  have  been  first  to  open  her  arms.  How  could 
you  know  her  heart?"  Constance  answered,  excusing  me,  as 
she  did  in  all  things. 

"I  wonder  if  all  letters  are  so  full  of  tears?"  I  exclaimed, 
taking  the  missive  tenderly  in  my  hands.  "But  see  the  date, 
and  how  long  it  has  been  in  coming!  She  will  have  died, 
I  know,  ere  I  can  reach  her!" 

"You  will  go  to  her,  then?"  Constance  answered. 

"Yes,  and  to-day,  if  there  is  a  way,"  I  answered,  getting 
to  my  feet. 

"Oh,  you  can't  go  so  soon,  Gilbert,  and  on  so  long  a  jour- 
ney!" Constance  answered,  putting  up  her  hand  as  if  to 
restrain  me. 

"Why  not?  The  distance  is  nothing,"  I  answered,  with 
some  pride. 

"See,  Gilbert,  what  is  this?"  Constance  interrupted, 
unfolding  a  paper  she  had  picked  up  from  the  ground;  "an 
order  to  pay  you  money,  and  for  five  hundred  dollars.  Surely, 
your  aunt  means  all  she  says  and  more!" 


Under  the  Widespreading  Hawthorns          393 

Yes,  so  it  was;  a  fortune,  and  sent  that  I  might  come  to 
her  without  loss  of  time  or  expense  to  my  friends. 

"Oh,  aunt,  I  will  come,  be  sure!"  I  cried,  scarce  able  to 
decipher  the  paper,  so  clouded  were  my  eyes  with  tears. 

"You  will  need  it  all,  Gilbert;  it  is  so  far,  and  you  can't 
go  alone,  you  know.  Oh,  how  I  wish  I  were  going  with 
you!"  the  sweet  girl  exclaimed,  clasping  my  neck  as  if  no  one 
could  protect  me  so  well  as  she. 

"I  wish  you  were,  sweetheart,  for  I  shall  be  unhappy  till 
I  come  back  to  you,"  I  answered,  my  heart  sinking  at  the 
thought  of  leaving  her. 

"You  must  not  feel  that  way,  Gilbert,  for  you  will  not  be 
long  away,"  she  answered,  tears  starting  in  her  eyes. 

"I  must  stay,  once  I  get  there;  but  I  will  come  back,  and 
often,  till  that  day,  you  know  when,"  I  answered,  embracing 
her. 

Thus  it  was  arranged,  and  going  to  the  house  I  showed 
Aunt  Jane's  letter  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hayward,  who  were  as 
much  surprised  as  we  had  been.  When  I  told  them  I  thought 
I  ought  to  go  to  her  at  once,  they  both  assented,  as  I  had 
felt  sure  they  would  from  the  first. 

"If  you  think  best,"  I  said  to  Mr.  Hayward  after  we  had 
talked  the  matter  over,  "I  will  go  on  to  town  with  Constance, 
and  if  there  is  a  boat,  I  will  go  by  that,  and  if  not  will  take 
a  horse  and  go  across  the  country." 

"Do  as  you  think  best;  and  you  are  welcome  to  one  of  our 
horses,  if  you  conclude  to  go  that  way,"  he  answered. 

For  this  I  thanked  him,  but  declined,  for  I  knew  he  needed 
them  in  his  business,  which  was  now  grown  somewhat,  but 
not  as  much  as  it  ought. 

"You  will  not  think  of  going  alone,  Gilbert,  I  hope?" 
Mrs.  Hayward  spoke  up,  as  she  helped  me  to  collect  the  few 
things  I  needed,  and  this  as  if  she  still  saw  in  me  the  slender 
youth  she  had  welcomed  with  so  much  kindness  years  before. 

"Why  not?  The  country  is  open,  and  I  have  but  to  go 
ahead,  and  in  three  or  four  days  at  the  most  I  will  be  there." 


394  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"He  is  not  going  alone,"  Constance  broke  in  at  this. 
"The  country  is  full  of  outlaws  and  wild  beasts.  Think  what 
happened  to  him  when  he  came  to  Appletop!" 

"It  is  not  so  bad  as  that  now,  you  know,  Constance," 
I  answered;  "and  besides,  I  shall  have  money  and  a  horse 
if  I  go  overland." 

"It  has  not  changed  much,  and  some  accident  might  hap- 
pen to  you,  and  then  what  would  you  do?  Surely  your 
Uncle  Job  or  Mr.  Fox  will  go  with  you,  or  if  not,  papa  will  be 
glad  to,  I  know,"  the  sweet  child  insisted. 

Matters  being  thus  arranged,  we  took  leave  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Hayward,  and  this  on  my  part  with  a  sad  heart.  For  in 
the  years  I  had  made  my  home  with  them  they  had  been  very 
tender  and  kind  to  me,  and  because  of  it  I  had  grown  to  love 
them,  more,  indeed,  than  I  thought  till  the  hour  of  parting 
came. 

When  we  reached  Appletop  we  stopped  at  Uncle  Job's  on 
our  way  to  the  Dragon.  Tears  filled  his  eyes  as  he  read  and 
re-read  Aunt  Jane's  sad  letter. 

"Poor  woman!    You  will  go  to  her,  Gilbert?"  he  said  at  last. 

"Yes;  and  I  am  glad  you  think  I  should,"  I  answered. 

"Of  course;  but  when  do  you  think  of  starting?"  he  asked. 

"To-day  if  I  can  get  off." 

"That  is  prompt,"  he  answered,  as  if  pleased  that  I  should 
respond  so  quickly  to  her  request.  "How  will  you  make  the 
journey,  do  you  think?" 

"By  boat,  if  there  is  one,  and  if  not,  across  the  country. 
I  would  like  the  last  best,  though." 

"There  will  be  no  boat  till  to-morrow  night,  and  then  not 
surely,"  he  answered,  after  a  moment's  thought. 

"That  is  too  long  to  wait,  and  a  good  horse  will  carry  me 
as  soon  or  sooner  than  I  could  go  the  other  way." 

"You  must  not  go  alone,"  he  replied.  "I  would  be  glad 
to  go  if  I  could  get  away,  but  as  I  can't,  how  would  Fox  do?" 

"We  had  thought  of  him,"  Constance  spoke  up. 

"Then  you  have  talked  it  over?"  Uncle  Job  asked. 


Under  the  Widespread! ng  Hawthorns          395 

"Yes;  it  is  not  safe  for  him  to  go  alone,  and  that  is  the 
way  we  happened  to  speak  of  it." 

"Fox  will  be  a  good  companion,  and  more  agreeable  than 
I,"  Uncle  Job  answered,  pleasantly. 

"You  know  that  is  not  so,  uncle,"  I  answered,  "for 
I  should  like  no  one  so  well  as  you." 

"Well,  it  is  nice  of  you  to  say  so,  anyway;  but  if  you  are 
to  start  to-day  you  must  be  off,  and  while  you  are  looking  up 
Fox  I  will  get  the  dapple-gray  mare  in  shape  for  you." 

"The  mare!"  I  answered,  surprised  at  the  reference. 
"Will  you  let  me  take  her?" 

"Yes;  and  if  you  will  accept  the  gift,  I  shall  be  glad  to 
give  her  to  you.  I  have  been  intending  to  do  it  for  a  long 
time,"  he  answered,  smiling. 

"I  know  that,  for  I  have  heard  him  say  so  before,  Gilbert," 
Aunt  Betty  here  interposed,  and  as  if  pleased  at  what  her  hus- 
band proposed. 

"Thank  you,"  I  answered;  "there  is  nothing  in  the  world 
you  could  give  me  that  would  please  me  half  so  much";  for 
since  the  night  I  rode  her  to  Appletop  I  thought  her  the  finest 
animal  in  all  the  world. 

Taking  leave  of  Uncle  Job  and  Aunt  Betty,  Constance  and 
I  started  for  the  Dragon,  and  on  our  way  ran  across  Fox,  as 
good  luck  would  have  it.  When  we  told  him  about  the  jour- 
ney and  our  wish  that  he  should  go  with  me,  he  was  delighted 
beyond  power  of  speaking,  for  he  had  long  desired  to  get 
away  from  Appletop,  and  only  Uncle  Job's  wish  kept  him 
back.  This  because  the  past  had  been  a  bar  to  his  getting 
anything  worthy  of  him,  nor  did  it  seem  possible  he  could 
live  it  down,  though  he  labored  hard  to  be  thought  worthy  of 
men's  confidence.  It  was  plain,  too,  that  he  had  now  begun 
to  despair  of  his  future,  in  which  we  greatly  pitied  him,  for 
he  was  in  all  things  of  blameless  life  and  wholly  free  from 
folly  of  any  kind. 

"Do  you  know  where  you  can  get  a  horse?"  I  asked,  when 
it  had  been  arranged  that  he  should  go. 


396  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"Yes,  I  know  a  good  one  I  can  hire,"  he  answered,  and 
sorrowfully  enough,  for  it  had  been  a  long  time  since  he  had 
a  horse  of  his  own. 

"We  had  better  buy  one;  Aunt  Jane  has  sent  me  money 
enough,  and  it  can't  be  used  in  a  better  way,  can  it?" 

"That  would  be  fine;  and  have  you  a  horse?"  he  asked. 

"Yes;  Uncle  Job  has  given  me  the  gray  mare." 

"Given  her  to  you!  Well,  that's  past  belief,  for  she  is  the 
very  apple  of  his  eye,"  he  answered,  surprised. 

While  we  were  thus  talking,  Blott  came  up,  bustling  and 
fat  and  as  full  of  color  as  an  alderman.  He  had  now  been 
married  a  year,  and  was,  moreover,  deputy  sheriff,  an  office 
he  filled  with  great  pride,  and  acceptably  to  the  public.  When 
I  told  him  of  our  journey,  the  roving  instinct  in  him  showed 
itself  in  the  way  he  straightened  up. 

"I'd  like  to  go  with  you,"  he  answered,  "for  it'll  be 
a  picnic;  but  business  is  business,  an'  the  peace  of  the  county's 
got  to  be  looked  after,"  he  added,  with  a  sly  glance  at  his 
wife,  a  little  woman  with  a  firm  mouth  and  big  nose,  who  had 
come  up  while  he  was  speaking.  This  little  lady  was  a  very 
determined  woman,  and  ruled  her  lord  with  an  iron  hand  in 
all  matters  relating  to  temperance  and  early  hours  and  things 
of  that  sort,  but  for  his  good,  be  it  said,  and  not  unkindly. 

"We  should  like  to  have  you  go  if  you  could  get  away," 
I  answered,  for  Blott  was  fine  company. 

"It  would  be  great  if  both  Blott  and  Mr.  Fox  could  go, 
Gilbert,"  Constance  spoke  up,  seeing  in  this  greater  safety 
for  me  in  fighting  off  the  outlaws  and  desperadoes  with  which 
she  had  peopled  every  lonely  place  since  the  night  in  Mur- 
derer's Hollow. 

"He  can't,  though,  Miss  Constance,"  Mrs.  Blott  broke 
in.  "He  couldn't  be  away  so  long,  and  besides  he  might  have 
a  return  of  the  old  malady,  an*  I  ain't  goin'  to  risk  it." 

"There  ain't  a  bit  of  danger,  Sarah,"  Blott  answered, 
"for  I'm  livin'  too  near  the  sky  to  ketch  anything  but  a  cold. 
Do  you  know,  Gilbert,  I  can  hardly  keep  my  feet  on  the 


Under  the  Widespreading  Hawthorns          397 

ground,  an'  have  to  clip  my  wings  every  mornin',  I'm  so 
good.  Only  Sarah's  stricter'n  she  need  be  sometimes." 

"No,  I  ain't,"  Mrs.  Blott  spoke  up,  "seein'  what  indul- 
gence led  you  into  before." 

"You  see  how  I'm  treed,"  Blott  answered,  looking  at  me 
ruefully. 

"One  can't  be  too  careful,  Blott,"  Fox  answered;  "being 
out  nights  and  away  from  the  comforts  of  home  is  bad  for 
those  inclined  to  malarial  troubles." 

"That's  no  dream;  but  there  ain't  no  danger  in  my  case," 
Blott  answered. 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  Mrs.  Blott  broke  in;  "but 
we've  got  the  habit  broke  up,  an'  it's  best  to  keep  it  so." 

"Don't  that  frost  you,  Gilbert!  But  she'll  have  her  way, 
she'll  have  her  way,  an'  it's  probably  the  best.  For  I  don't 
mind  tellin'  you,  even  if  she's  by,  that  she  knows  more'n  any 
doctor,  an'  barrin'  a  little  too  much  watchfulness,  is  the  best 
woman  on  earth." 

"One  can  see  that  with  half  an  eye,"  I  answered. 

"Yes;  an'  she's  the  kind  of  a  woman  for  a  poor  man, 
knowin'  more'n  to  run  into  the  fence  when  she  gits  to  the 
end  of  the  furrer.  Rose-bushes  is  all  right,  Gilbert,  in  their 
place;  but  they  don't  make  good  kindlin'  wood,  an'  when 
women  ain't  brought  up  to  know  nothin'  'cept  to  set  'round 
an'  make  themselves  pleasant-like,  they  shouldn't  break  the 
back  of  a  poor  man  by  marryin'  him.  Women  is  like  trees; 
sum  air  only  purty;  other's  air  just  as  purty,  an'  make  good 
rails  an'  firewood,  too,  when  the  need  comes." 

"How  is  it  with  men,  Blott?"  Fox  asked,  winking  at  Mrs. 
Blott.  " 

"Well,  I  wasn't  talkin*  'bout  men,"  he  answered;  "but 
there's  many  a  little  woman  takin'  in  washin'  to  support  a  hulk 
of  a  man  who's  too  lazy  to  work." 

"You  will  be  sheriff  some  day,  Blott,  with  such  a  wife," 
I  answered,  bowing  to  the  little  woman  as  we  started  to  leave. 

"Yes,  you  can't  keep  a  good  man  down.     I'm  gettin'  old, 


398  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

too,  an'  only  young  turkeys  is  willin*  to  roost  on  the  lower 
limbs.  I'm  pipe-layin'  for  the  place,  Gilbert;  but  I  mayn't 
get  it,  for  the  deservin'  don't  always  win,  an'  if  they  did 
there'd  be  nothin'  left  for  the  others.  It's  the  compeetin* 
of  the  deservin'  with  the  ondeservin'  that  makes  the  world 
interestin*  to  everybody." 

Bidding  Blott  and  his  wife  good  by,  Constance  and  I  hur- 
ried on  to  the  Dragon,  where  we  found  Mr.  Seymour,  who, 
as  I  expected,  joined  with  the  others  in  thinking  I  should  lose 
no  time  in  going  to  my  aunt. 

"Come,  you  can't  ride  on  an  empty  stomach!"  he 
exclaimed,  after  we  had  talked  the  matter  over,  and  with  that 
led  the  way  to  the  Treasure  room,  Constance  and  I  following. 
Here  luncheon  was  served,  and  eating  it  we  spent  an  hour 
talking  of  the  past  and  the  future,  for  none  of  us  could  tell 
how  much  my  present  journey  might  change  my  way  of  life. 
Going  downstairs  at  last,  vo  found  Uncle  Job  and  Aunt  Betty 
and  Fox  awaiting  us,  the  latter  mounted  on  a  fine  horse  and 
holding  the  gray  mare,  saddled  and  bridled  and  looking  as 
fine  as  a  fiddle.  Much  affected  by  all  their  kindness,  I  came 
near  to  breaking  down,  but  putting  as  good  a  face  on  it  as 
I  could,  I  bade  them  good  by,  and  mounting  my  horse  we  set 
off  at  a  gallop. 


CHAPTER   LI 

THE   MAUVAISE  TERRE 

The  second  evening  after  our  departure  we  were  far  on 
our  way,  stopping  for  the  night  at  the  hut  of  a  lonely  trapper 
hid  away  among  the  steep  inclines  that  shelter  the  perverse 
and  tortuous  Kickapoo.  The  next  morning,  getting  an  early 
start,  we  rode  into  the  little  village  of  Peoria,  crossing  the 
placid  Illinois  as  the  morning  sun  tipped  the  forest  on  its 
eastern  shore.  The  fourth  night  found  us,  without  adven- 
ture, a  few  miles  from  Little  Sandy,  and  here,  worn  out  with 
our  long  ride,  we  put  up  at  a  wayside  tavern,  half  hidden  by 
the  overhanging  trees.  The  next  morning,  impatient  to  com- 
plete our  journey,  we  were  in  the  saddle  while  the  east  was 
as  yet  scarce  tinted  with  the  coming  of  the  summer  sday. 
Riding  forward  into  the  great  plain,  the  morning  mists  hung 
white  and  trembling  on  the  distant  horizon,  and  this  as  if  to 
hide  the  beauties  of  nature  that  lay  beyond.  Above  these 
shadowy  curtains,  serene  and  far  off,  the  placid  heavens,  half 
disclosed,  looked  down  upon  us  in  gentle  salutation.  Going 
on,  and  the  day  advancing,  the  soft  murmurings  and  babble 
of  the  prairie  filled  our  ears  as  with  the  breath  of  life. 
Nothing  indeed  was  lacking  to  complete  nature's  picture;  the 
hum  of  insects,  the  chirruping  of  birds,  the  drone  of  wild  bees 
gathering  their  winter  stores.  Inimitable  throng!  We  felt 
its  presence  as  we  might  that  of  the  Great  Creator. 

"Surely  God  dwells  here!"  Fox  exclaimed,  half  aloud, 
slowing  his  horse  to  a  walk. 

To  this  I  bowed  my  head  without  speaking,  feeling,  indeed, 
that  we  were  in  His  very  presence. 

"The  prairie  has  its  life  and  mysteries,  Gilbert,  great 
399 


400  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

and  unfathomable  as  the  silent  sea,  and  not  less  grand,"  Fox 
went  on,  pulling  up  his  horse. 

Stopping  to  contemplate  the  tranquil  scene,  the  odor  of 
flowers  and  fragrant  grasses  and  the  smell  of  the  sweet  earth 
came  to  our  grateful  senses  on  the  soft  air  like  a  welcome  and 
benediction. 

"It  is  nature's  breath,  and  with  the  perfume  of  all  the 
ages,"  Fox  exclaimed,  removing  his  hat. 

Nor  was  this  all,  for  round  about  us,  and  as  if  in  welcome 
of  our  coming,  the  birds  of  the  prairie  and  troops  of  meadow- 
larks  in  ecstasy  of  song  flitted  here  and  there,  or  with  faces 
turned  toward  us  perched  swaying  from  some  blossoming 
flower.  Along  the  scarce-beaten  path  as  we  went  slowly  for- 
ward the  midgets  of  the  plain,  emerging  from  their  hiding- 
places,  peered  at  us  curiously  from  out  the  dew-laden  grass, 
or  sat  bolt  upright,  staring  beside  their  nests.  Beyond  these, 
in  the  quiet  lakes,  white  with  the  morning  mists,  wild  fowl 
watched  from  amid  the  reeds,  and  round  about  them  musk- 
rats  swam  back  and  forth  or  sat  perched  on  their  housetops 
stroking  their  beards. 

"See  that  old  fellow  with  the  pompadour!"  Fox  exclaimed, 
his  mood  changing;  "there!  sitting  on  the  roof  of  his  Queen 
Anne  cottage.  How  much  he  resembles  General  Jackson! 
And  I  have  no  doubt  will  undermine  every  house  in  the  pond, 
as  the  general  has  done  with  our  finances,  if  any  one  dare 
make  a  face  at  him." 

"What  foolish  talk,"  I  answered,  paying  little  heed  to 
what  he  said. 

"No;  the  muskrat  is  as  serious  as  Mr.  Jackson,  and  knows 
just  as  much  about  finance  and  good  government." 

"Nonsense,  Fox!  General  Jackson  is  a  great  man," 
I  answered,  impatiently. 

"Yes,  in  some  things;  but  there  never  was  a  man  in  office 
who  knew  less  of  its  duties." 

"Well,  he  is  a  fine  soldier,  that  you  will  admit,"  I  answered, 
feeling  about  for  some  common  ground  on  which  we  could  stand. 


The  Mauvaise  Terre  401 

"Yes;  but  all  the  air  in  heaven  will  not  be  enough  to  sup- 
ply those  who  will  sing  his  praises  in  the  days  to  come,  not 
as  a  soldier,  but  as  a  Statesman,  with  a  great,  big,  fat,  succu- 
lent S.  He  is  to  our  liking,  though — for  if  by  chance  freemen 
find  a  man  with  a  genius  for  killing  people,  they  straightway 
make  him  President  or  something  of  that  kind.  Fitness  to 
the  winds,  my  boy,  tra  la!  Give  me  liberty  or  give  me  death, 
but  in  any  event,  something  to  worship,  if  it  is  only  a  seven- 
months'  calf." 

Not  agreeing  with  Fox  in  anything  he  said,  and  indeed 
not  knowing  much  about  it  one  way  or  the  other,  I  made  no 
reply,  and  so  the  subject  dropped.  Stopping  farther  on  to 
refresh  our  animals  in  the  sweet  waters  of  the  gentle  Mauvaise 
Terre,  its  dainty  fish  hurrying  from  their  hiding-places,  swam 
in  and  out  about  our  horses'  feet,  as  if  in  greeting  of  these 
new  monsters  come  to  visit  them  in  their  quiet  home.  Beyond, 
on  the  sloping  bank,  a  robin,  old  and  gray,  eyed  us  critically, 
and  at  last,  as  if  seeing  enough,  gave  a  croak  of  warning  and 
hopped  briskly  away.  Farther  up  the  steep  incline,  as  if  nature 
were  determined  to  exhibit  all  her  stores,  a  covey  of  quail  ran 
scurrying  across  the  way,  but  stopping  on  the  other  side,  looked 
down  on  us,  and  curiously,  as  if  having  naught  to  fear. 
Abandoning  ourselves  to  the  dreamy  sweetness  of  the  hour, 
there  came  presently  from  out  the  topmost  branches  of  a  tow- 
ering cottonwood  the  blackbirds'  swelling  chorus,  rising  and 
falling  on  the  morning  air  like  an  anthem  of  praise  and  thanks- 
giving, as  indeed  it  was. 

"How  is  that,  Gilbert,  compared  with  our  Appletop 
choir?"  Fox  asked,  shaking  his  head. 

Not  answering,  I  looked  away;  and  far  off,  beneath  an 
overhanging  oak,  a  gentle  doe,  with  her  young  beside  her, 
stood  drinking.  Looking  in  that  direction,  Fox  spoke  again, 
but  now  soberly  enough. 

"See,  Gilbert,  in  this  Garden  of  Eden  we  are  still  thought 
to  be  harmless  like  the  other  animals;  and  to  think,"  he  went 
on  without  stopping,  "that  such  a  world  should  be  bartered 


4Q2  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

for  an  apple  with  a  worm  in  it!  But  hark!"  and  as  he 
ceased  there  came  to  us,  as  in  farewell  and  from  some  far- 
off  place,  the  soft  cooing  of  the  turtle-dove,  sweetest  and  sad- 
dest of  all  country  sounds  and  fittest  note  of  its  remote  and 
restful  solitudes.  Listening,  but  without  speech,  we  rode 
on,  and  regretfully,  loath  to  leave  a  scene  so  full  of  beauty  and 
the  fragrant  sweetness  of  life. 


CHAPTER   LII 

LIFE  AND  DEATH 

Rousing  ourselves  as  we  left  the  shadows  of  the  Mauvaise 
Terre,  we  put  spurs  to  our  horses,  and  ere  the  sun  was  half- 
way up  the  sky,  rode  into  the  town  of  Little  Sandy.  This  on 
a  day  like  that  upon  which  I  left  it  years  before,  but  now  how 
changed!  The  Dragon,  once  the  center  of  so  much  stir,  stood 
forlorn  and  empty,  its  sign  hanging  half  obliterated  in  the 
morning  air,  as  if  in  shame  of  its  abandonment.  About  the 
town,  the  houses  once  so  full  of  life  and  sprightly  gayety  were 
now  for  the  most  part  empty  and  fast  falling  to  pieces  for  lack 
of  care.  The  busy  streets,  too,  were  overgrown  with  grasses 
and  sprouting  trees,  so  that  the  footfall  of  our  horses  could 
scarce  be  heard  as  we  rode  slowly  forward.  No  need  to  tell 
the  reason  of  this  decay,  and  that  some  new  place  was  luring 
the  people  to  other  homes. 

Sorrowing  over  what  I  saw,  we  rode  at  a  walk  through  the 
dying  town  into  the  country  beyond.  Here,  nearing  my  aunt's 
house,  we  turned  into  a  quiet  path,  and  doing  so,  came  full 
upon  the  lawyer  Moth.  He,  keeping  his  horse  at  a  gallop, 
raised  his  hat  and  saluted  us  with  every  show  of  kindness  and 
good  will  as  he  passed,  but  without  stopping  or  speech  of  any 
kind.  Returning  his  salutation,  we  went  on,  and  now  more, 
soberly,  until  presently  our  path  brought  us  to  the  little 
churchyard  where  my  father  and  mother  lay  buried.  Here, 
giving  my  horse  to  Fox,  I  went  forward  alone,  gathering  as 
I  crossed  the  intervening  space  the  grasses  and  wild  flowers 
my  mother  had  loved  when  she  was  yet  alive.  Coming  pres- 
ently to  the  graves  with  throbbing  heart,  I  found  them  not  as 
I  had  thought,  but  covered  with  sweet  verdure  and  such  pro- 
4°3 


404  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

fusion  of  flowers  that  I  could  scarce  believe  my  eyes.  Seeing 
this,  and  being  overwrought,  I  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears,  and 
throwing  myself  down  upon  the  ground,  rested  my  face  upon 
my  mother's  grave.  Calling  to  her  aloud  in  agony  of  grief, 
as  a  child  might  have  done,  I  repeated  again  her  prayers  and 
those  that  she  had  taught  me  kneeling  at  her  side.  At  last, 
quieted  in  some  measure,  I  yet  lay  still,  and  doing  so,  lived 
over  my  childhood  days,  tasted  its  sweet  cares  and  blissful  sor- 
rows, heard  again  the  voices  of  those  I  loved,  called  up  anew 
their  forms  and  smiling  faces.  Thus  dreaming  and  mourning, 
I  lingered,  loath  to  leave,  until  the  sun  was  high  in  the  heavens. 
Nor  would  I  yet  have  gone  had  not  Fox  come  to  draw  me 
away.  Then  kneeling  and  kissing  the  mounds  that  covered 
the  dear  forms,  I  arose  and  followed  him.  Passing  Wild  Plum, 
I  did  not  stay,  except  to  note  with  throbbing  heart  that 
in  everything  it  was  as  we  had  left  it.  Here  again  I  saw 
Aunt  Jane's  loving  hand,  as  in  the  flower-strewn  graves,  and 
seeing  it,  blessed  her  for  her  love  and  tender  care. 

With  my  heart  thus  stirred  with  grateful  thoughts,  we 
spurred  on  to  her  home,  and  coming  to  the  gate,  there  was  no 
sign  of  bustle  or  life  of  any  kind,  but  such  quietness  as  no  one 
had  ever  known  in  the  olden  time.  For  in  those  days  the 
very  trees  and  plants,  so  it  was  thought,  meditated  on  the 
crops  and  the  prospect  of  gain ;  but  now  how  changed !  Stand- 
ing upright  and  staring,  they  seemed  without  life  and  as  if 
awaiting  some  sad  event  which  they  had  long  foreknown. 
Thinking  my  aunt  was  dead,  and  yet  believing  Moth  would 
have  told  me  had  this  been  so,  I  gave  my  horse  to  Fox,  and 
going  forward,  knocked  at  the  door.  Scarce  had  I  done  this, 
when  it  opened,  and  the  servant,  knowing  me  before  I  spoke, 
took  my  hand,  and  kissing  it,  led  me  through  the  hall  and  up 
the  winding  stairs  to  my  aunt's  room.  Here,  opening  the 
door,  she  motioned  me  to  enter,  and  when  I  had  done  so 
closed  it  again  and  went  away  without  having  vouchsafed  me 
a  word.  Gazing  about  in  the  dimly  lighted  room,  I  presently 
made  out  my  aunt  propped  up  in  her  bed,  and  intent,  as  if 


Life  and  Death  405 

breathing  a  prayer.  Surprised  at  her  worn  and  altered  look, 
I  neither  moved  nor  spoke.  For  of  the  robust  form  and  com- 
manding face  of  other  days  there  lay  before  me  only  a  shrunken 
body,  with  features  worn  and  wasted  so  as  to  be  scarce  recog- 
nized as  hers.  Only  the  eyes  retained  something  of  the  old 
look,  but  now  lighted  as  if  by  some  hidden  and  destructive 
fire.  While  I  stood  thus  gazing  upon  her,  my  mind  filled  with 
sad  thoughts,  she  turned  toward  the  door,  and  catching  sight 
of  my  form,  gave  a  start,  and  stretching  out  her  arms,  cried, 
in  a  frenzy  of  fear  and  haste : 

"Gilbert!  Gilbert!  is  it  you?  Come,  come  to  me,  quick! 
quick!" 

At  this  I  ran  to  her,  and  she,  clasping  my  neck,  trembling 
and  sobbing,  drew  me  down  upon  her  bosom.  Thus  we  lay 
in  each  other's  arms,  my  heart  too  full  for  speech  and  hers 
beating  against  my  breast  as  if  it  would  burst  with  the  strain 
put  upon  it.  When  she  had  somewhat  recovered  herself,  she 
did  not  speak,  but  murmuring  half-articulate  words  of  endear- 
ment, fell  to  stroking  my  hair  and  face  as  if  I  were  a  babe 
nursing  at  her  breast.  Having  in  this  way  in  some  measure 
satisfied  her  heart's  longing,  she  took  hold  of  my  shoulders, 
and  holding  me  off,  fell  to  studying  my  face,  as  if  she  would 
read  there  all  that  it  had  to  tell  and  more.  Then  softly,  and 
oh,  so  differently  from  other  days,  she  spoke: 

"Oh,  my  child,  my  sweet  one,  how  it  gladdens  my  tired 
heart  to  see  you,  and  so  soon,  for  I  scarce  expected  you  yet, 
if  indeed  you  came  at  all." 

"I  hope  you  did  not  think  so  badly  of  me  as  that,  dear 
aunt,  for  I  lost  not  a  moment  after  getting  your  letter." 

"Yes,  child,  I  thought  you  would  come;  and  it  was  like  your 
father  to  act  quickly.  In  looks,  though,  how  like  you  are  to 
your  sweet  mother!  Her  color  and  face  and  eyes  and  hair!  It 
is  as  if  she  stood  beside  me  in  life,  so  much  do  you  resemble  her." 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  that,"  I  answered,  kissing  her, 
pleased  beyond  everything  at  the  gentle  way  in  which  she 
spoke  of  my  dear  mother. 


406  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"Yes,  child;  and  I  hope  you  will  be  like  her  in  temper  and 
sweetness  of  life." 

"No  one  can  be  that;  but  what  you  say  makes  me  very 
happy,  aunt,"  I  answered,  caressing  her  hand. 

"You  started  right  away,  then,  when  you  got  my  letter?" 
she  asked,  toying  with  my  hair. 

"Yes,  within  an  hour;  but  I  can  never  forgive  myself  for 
going  away  as  I  did,  giving  you  no  chance  to  speak,  and  on 
my  knees,  dear  aunt,  I  ask  you  to  forgive  me,"  I  answered, 
slipping  down  beside  her  bed  and  wetting  it  with  my  tears,  so- 
sorrowing  was  my  heart  at  her  forlorn  state. 

"Don't  kneel  to  me,  dear  one,"  she  exclaimed,  lifting  me 
up.  "We  were  all  mistaken,  you  least  of  all;  but  my  whole 
life  has  been  a  mistake,  and  from  the  very  beginning. 
Wrapped  up  in  my  strivings,  I  thought  not  of  my  acts,  nor 
heeded  how  they  appeared  to  others,  only  knowing  that  I  loved 
you  all  and  labored  that  you  might  some  day  be  the  better  for 
it.  How  mistakenly,  though,  and  oh,  how  bitterly  God  has 
punished  me,  till  at  last  my  prayer  is  answered,  and  He  has 
led  you  back  to  me." 

"We  were  to  blame,  dear  aunt,  and  should  have  read  your 
heart  better.  Now  how  happy  my  mother  must  be,  can  she 
but  hear  your  words  and  know  your  heart,  for  all  her  life  long 
she  wanted  to  win  your  love." 

"I  know  it,  and  she  had  it  above  all  others  on  earth;  and 
yet,  oh,  God,  forgive  my  pride  and  wayward  moods!  I  would 
make  no  sign.  Not  even  when  she  was  about  to  die — but  of 
that,  merciful  heaven,  I  did  not  dream!"  she  cried  in  agony, 
pressing  her  hands  against  her  tear-stained  face.  Recovering 
after  a  while,  she  went  on,  but  now  more  gently:  "Tell  me, 
sweet  child,  how  it  is  that  you  who  were  once  so  slight,  yet 
have  your  height  and  strength  at  scarce  sixteen?" 

"I  don't  know,  dear  aunt,  unless,  as  I  have  heard,  all  our 
people  were  the  same." 

"Yes,  your  father  had  his  growth  at  your  age,  and  went 
about  the  world  as  if  he  were  thirty."  Then,  as  if  hastening, 


Life  and  Death  407 

she  went  on:  "I  hope  your  Uncle  Job  is  well  and  happy.  We 
greatly  mistook  him,  and  had  you  stayed  with  me,  as  I  wanted, 
you  would  perhaps  not  have  been  the  better  for  it.  For  you 
must  know  that  all  you  have  done,  and  all  that  has  happened 
to  you,  I  have  known  about  as  well  as  if  I  had  been  with  you. 
This  you  will  wonder  at,  but  I  have  followed  your  wanderings 
as  if  you  were  my  own  son.  My  estrangement  from  your 
father  and  mother  was  all  my  fault,  but  I  loved  them  none  the 
less.  When  they  died  I  thought  to  make  some  reparation  by 
the  care  with  which  I  would  watch  over  your  young  life,  but 
this  failed,  and  unhappily,  like  all  else.  Then  as  I  could  not 
haVe  you  with  me,  I  thought  to  watch  over  you  and  be  near 
should  you  need  my  aid — not  forcing  myself  upon  you,  but 
without  your  knowledge ;  and  so  your  life  since  you  left  Wild 
Plum  is  known  to  me  better  than  to  any  one  save  yourself." 

"I  never  dreamed  of  that,  dear  aunt,  nor  was  I  worthy  of 
it!"  I  answered,  greatly  affected  by  what  she  said. 

"Yes,  you  were;  and  I  have  grown  to  love  you  better 
because  of  your  simple  ways.  For  believing  you  were  alone 
in  the  world,  you  yet  kept  on,  not  complaining  nor  going  astray 
in  any  serious  way." 

"I  had  help  in  that,  dear  aunt,  of  which  you  do  not  know," 
I  answered,  thinking  of  Constance. 

"Yes,  the  help  that  comes  from  companionship  with 
a  gentle  and  pure  heart;  from  Constance's  sympathy  and  love 
for  you.  You  see,  I  know  all  about  her  and  your  love  for 
each  other,  you  dear  child.  Yes,  even  while  you  were  yet  at 
Wild  Plum,  and  children;  and  I  shall  die  the  happier  for  it> 
Gilbert,  for  she  is  worthy  of  your  love  though  you  were 
a  thousand  times  better  than  you  are." 

"Oh,  aunt,  how  good  of  you  to  speak  in  that  way;  but  you 
will  not  die,  for  no  one  of  our  family,  save  my  father,  was  ever 
stricken  down  so  young." 

"I  am  sorry  if  it  grieves  you,  dear  child,  but  in  a  little  while, 
you  cannot  dream  how  soon,  I  shall  be  laid  beside  your  sweet 
mother.  Put  me  there,  Gilbert,  and  when  you  place  flowers 


408  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

on  their  graves,  spare  some  for  me.  It  is  all  I  ask,  save  that 
you  will  remember  me  as  kindly  as  you  can  when. I  am  gone." 

"Don't  talk  that  way,  dear  aunt,  for  you  know  I  will  love 
you  always,  and  I  loved  you  before  I  saw  you,  when  I  found 
the  graves  covered  with  flowers,  and  at  Wild  Plum,  where 
everything  was  as  it  used  to  be." 

"Did  you  come  that  way,  child?  It  was  affectionate  of 
you,  and  as  it  should  be.  When  I  am  gone  you  can  do  as 
I  have,  if  you  wish,  for  I  shall  leave  you  enough  for  that,  and 
much  more  to  spend  as  you  like." 

"Don't  speak  so,  dear  aunt,  for  you  are  not  going  to  die," 
I  answered,  melted  anew  to  tears  by  the  sad  pathos  of  her 
voice. 

"I  must  speak,  and  about  your  future,  for  I  have  but 
a  little  time  left  me.  I  shall  leave  you  all  I  have,  my  sweet 
child,  and  it  is  much  more  than  any  one  dreams  of,  save  Moth. 
Of  him,  too,  Gilbert,  I  want  to  speak  before  it  is  too  late. 
Everything  he  did  was  by  my  direction,  save  that  his  zeal  for 
me  made  him  sometimes  forget  what  was  due  to  others.  That 
was  only  an  excess  of  virtue,  for  in  all  things,  great  and  small, 
he  has  been  true  to  me;  and  much  of  my  great  fortune,  and  it 
is  truly  great,  is  due  to  his  advice  and  never-failing  friend- 
ship. Treasure  him  when  I  am  gone,  sweet  one,  for  no  matter 
what  you  have  thought,  he  is  a  man  to  trust;  pure  gold  tried 
over  and  over  again  in  the  furnace  of  life.  It  was  he  who 
reconciled  me,  in  my  heart,  to  your  Uncle  Job.  For  after  the 
trial  he  came  and  confessed  to  me,  almost  on  his  knees,  how 
grievously  he  had  been  mistaken,  and  that  in  all  things  Mr. 
Throckmorton's  honor  and  good  intentions  were  what  they 
should  be.  Thus  it  has  proven ;  for  if  you  have  struggled  on 
seemingly  alone,  it  was  for  your  good,  and  has  built  you  up 
as  I  could  not  have  done,  nor  your  uncle,  had  you  looked  to 
him.  In  this  he  has  been  wise,  as  you  will  see  more  plainly  as 
the  years  pass." 

"He  would  have  aided  me  more  than  he  has  had  I  let 
him,"  I  answered,  anxious  to  do  him  justice. 


Life  and  Death  409 

"I  know;  and  you  have  been  a  little  headstrong,  Gilbert, 
but  only  that  you  might  provide  for  yourself.  I  don't  treasure 
it  against  you,  for  only  good  has  come  of  it,  and  I  love  you  all 
the  more.  Now,  Gilbert,  let  me  say  a  word  about  other 
things,  for  I  have  but  little  strength,  and  may  never  be  able 
to  speak  to  you  again.  All  my  life,  as  you  know,  I  have  occu- 
pied myself  with  business.  What  else  could  I  do?  Had 
I  married,  as  I  might,  and  happily,  it  would  have  been  differ- 
ent. Determining  otherwise,  and  most  unwisely,  I  set  out  to 
build  up  our  fortune,  and  for  your  good,  hoping  to  transmit 
our  name,  not  as  it  is  known  in  this  distracted  country,  but 
as  it  was  in  another  and  more  peaceful  land.  In  this  I  have 
succeeded  beyond  all  my  hopes,  but  much  of  my  success  has 
been  due  to  Moth.  Wild  Plum  I  redeemed,  as  I  could  under 
your  father's  deed,  and  you  will  treasure  it,  and  keep  this 
place  too,  I  hope,  in  remembrance  of  me.  Beneath  these 
farms,  and  underlying  all  the  many  thousand  acres  I  leave  you, 
there  lie  boundless  fields  of  coal,  the  worth  of  which  no  one 
dreams  of  now.  For  in  a  little  while  our  young  state  will 
have  filled  with  people,  and  with  them  will  come  factories,  and 
the  furnaces  of  these  you  will  help  to  feed.  These  lands 
I  leave  to  you,  and  other  things  for  your  present  wants,  so 
that  you  may  spend  all  your  life  and  still  be  rich;  but  do  this 
in  moderation,  Gilbert.  Others  will  come  after  you.  Leave 
something  for  them.  Do  not  be  idle,  but  occupy  yourself  not 
less  fully  now  that  you  will  be  rich.  For  idleness  is  like  a  foul 
distemper  that  destroys  the  mind  and  saps  the  character  of 
men,  leaving  only  shreds  and  patches  not  worth  any  one's 
respect.  Remember  always  that  the  greatest  of  God's  gifts 
is  the  opportunity  to  occupy  our  minds  and  bodies  in  the 
attainment  of  honorable  ends.  Thus  busied,  men  never  grow 
old,  but  remain  buoyant  and  fresh  to  the  very  end." 

"What  am  I,  dear  aunt,  that  you  should  have  planned  like 
this?  Surely,  men  are  but  little  children  compared  with 
you." 

"No;  the  most  foolish  among  them  have  been  wiser  than 


410  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

I,  for  their  lives  have  had  some  ray  of  sunshine,  while  mine 
has  not  had  one  gleam  to  brighten  it." 

"Oh,  aunt,  Constance  and  I  will  make  your  life  happy  if 
our  love  will  be  enough,  for  we  will  love  you  as  if  you  were 
our  mother. " 

"It  is  too  late,  Gilbert,"  she  answered,  with  a  sad  smile; 
"but  I  shall  die  happy  in  being  reconciled  to  you  and  in  think- 
ing you  will  grow  to  love  me  when  I  am  gone.  Kiss  me  again, 
sweet  one,  and  may  the  good  Lord  have  you  in  His  keeping, 
and  forgive  me  all  my  sins." 

"Oh,  aunt!  we  will  be  more  to  you  than  you  can  think; 
and  Constance  will  come,  and  you  will  love  her  and  she  will 
love  you!  Don't  speak  again  of  dying,"  I  cried,  my  heart 
filled  to  overflowing. 

At  this  her  face  brightened  as  with  some  ray  of  happiness, 
but  she  made  no  response  save  to  pull  me  to  her  and  kiss  me, 
sobs  filling  her  throat  as  she  pressed  me  in  her  arms.  Then, 
faint  and  gasping,  she  fell  back  on  her  pillow,  and  in  a  little 
while,  as  if  comforted,  fell  into  a  sweet  and  restful  sleep. 
Sorrowing  over  her  sad  life  and  on  all  she  had  told  me,  I  sat 
beside  her,  her  hand  clasped  in  mine,  not  moving  lest  she 
should  awake.  This  till  the  shadows  of  the  night  were  gath- 
ering in  the  room,  and  then,  she  not  stirring,  I  arose  and 
leaned  over  her  bed,  and  doing  so  gave  a  startled  cry.  For 
while  I  had  sat  thus  unconscious,  her  spirit,  so  great  and  so 
unhappy,  had  taken  its  flight  to  the  good  Lord  whose  forgive- 
ness she  had  asked  with  her  last  breath. 


Thus  this  most  unhappy  lady,  so  capable  of  love,  passed 
away  with  a  smile  on  her  sad  face  and  a  prayer  upon  her  lips. 
I,  following  her  wishes,  lovingly  and  with  tears  placed  her 
beside  the  other  two,  and  spreading  flowers  over  all  their 
graves,  knelt  beside  them  and  prayed  that  the  lives  and  hearts 
of  the  dear  ones  so  long  separated  might  be  thus  reunited  in 
heaven  above. 


CHAPTER  LIII 

WHERE  ALL  THE  ROADS  MEET 

After  Aunt  Jane's  death,  Uncle  Job  came  on  to  Little 
Sandy,  and  together  we  spent  several  months  acquainting 
ourselves  with  her  affairs,  for  among  other  things  it  was  pro- 
vided in  the  will  that  he  should  be  trustee  of  the  estate  until 
I  was  come  of  age.  In  regard  to  this,  however,  she  was  at 
pains  to  express  the  wish  that  I  should  have  my  way  from  the 
start,  being  a  man  grown,  she  said,  and  not  likely  to  abuse 
her  confidence  in  any  respect.  Thus  it  fell  out  that  at  seven- 
teen, through  her  great  wisdom  and  love,  I  was  no  longer 
poor  and  without  a  home,  but  rich  beyond  anything  I  could 
have  dreamed  of. 

When,  finally,  there  was  nothing  further  to  keep  us,  and  I 
had  visited  the  graves  of  those  dear  to  me  for  the  last  time,  we 
bade  good  by  to  the  place,  leaving  Moth  and  Fox  in  charge. 
Of  their  stewardship  I  never  had  cause  to  regret,  for  through 
their  wise  and  faithful  management  my  affairs  prospered  in 
the  years  that  were  to  come  beyond  anything  I  could  have 
thought  possible.  Taking  our  departure,  we  passed  through 
Little  Sandy,  and  now  for  the  last  time.  For  when  I  came 
again  there  was  no  house  to  mark  the  spot,  and  where  the 
streets  had  been  a  young  forest  grew,  and  birds  flew  in  and 
out  or.  hid  themselves  in  its  silent  depths.  Passing  the 
Dragon,  I  saluted  it,  and  with  reverent  sadness,  as  one  might 
a  departing  friend,  for  in  its  silent  rooms  and  deserted  halls 
it  treasured  memories  that  only  death  could  lessen  or  efface. 

Our  journey  home  was  without  event,  and  so  filled  with 
the  sweetness  of  the  country  that  when  we  reached  Appletop 
we  were  rested  in  body  and  mind  as  from  a  refreshing  sleep. 
4n 


412  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

Constance,  as  if  to  set  my  heart  in  a  greater  flame,  was  grown 
taller  and  more  beautiful,  if  that  could  be,  but  otherwise  had 
not  changed ;  or  if  she  had,  it  was  to  my  advantage,  for  when 
I  asked  her  if  she  had  greatly  missed  me,  she  answered  that 
my  absence  only  added  to  her  love;  at  which  sweet  confession 
I  kissed  her  and  was  content. 

Some  time  after  our  return  Mr.  Seymour  gave  a  dinner 
at  the  Dragon  in  my  honor,  but  quite  informally,  so  the 
announcement  ran.  At  the  table  I  sat  next  to  Constance,  and, 
truth  to  tell,  to  the  great  loss  of  my  appetite;  for  much  of  the 
time  my  food  was  untasted  and  my  fork  lay  idle  on  my  plate 
that  I  might  be  the  more  free  to  pay  her  some  compliment  or 
press  her  hand  beneath  the  cloth.  There  being  no  one  but 
friends  present,  my  affairs  were  much  discussed,  and  this  with 
such  excess  of  joy  and  good  nature  that  I  was  many  times  in 
tears,  so  greatly  was  I  affected  by  their  kind  speeches  and  the 
recollection  of  their  goodness  to  me  in  the  past.  Mr.  Seymour 
I  never  saw  in  better  spirits,  for  my  good  fortune  was  as  if  it 
had  come  to  him,  or  as  if  I  had,  indeed,  been  his  own  son. 
When  the  evening  was  somewhat  advanced,  he  filled  his  glass, 
and  looking  into  the  faces  of  those  about  him,  said,  in  his 
amiable  way: 

"I  leave  it  to  you,  good  friends,  whether  we  may  not  prop- 
erly toast  our  young  friend  here  before  we  part."  Then 
stopping,  as  if  to  await  their  answer,  a  great  shout  went  up 
that  made  the  room  ring  with  its  good-natured  heartiness. 
"That  is  as  it  should  be,  and  expresses  some  part  of  our  love 
and  happiness  at  his  good  fortune.  I  say  good  fortune,  and 
this  I  know  it  will  prove;  for  when  he  was  poor  he  bore  him- 
self with  such  modesty  that  I  am  sure  he  will  not  lose  in  ami- 
ability now  that  riches  have  come  to  him.  For  arrogance,  as 
every  one  knows,  is  not  peculiar  to  the  rich  or  those  high  in 
station,  but  crops  up  oftentimes  like  a  foul  weed,  born  of 
envy,  among  the  more  lowly  in  life,  who,  except  for  this 
deformity,  would  be  very  agreeable  companions  and  neigh- 
bors. It  is  peculiarly  happy  that  this  stroke  of  fortune  has 


Where  All  the  Roads  Meet  413 

come  to  Gilbert,  for  some  of  you  will  not  have  forgotten  the 
belief  I  expressed  that  Mr.  Throckmorton's  marriage  destroyed 
all  his  hopes  of  preferment  in  that  direction.  This  has  come 
about  as  I  expected,  for  Mrs.  Betty's  two  fine  boys,  if  she  will 
excuse  my  familiar  form  of  speech,  would  have  left  little  for 
our  young  friend.  You  can  see  that  for  yourself  now,  Gil- 
bert," he  concluded,  turning  to  me. 

"Yes,  nothing  could  be  plainer,"  I  answered;  "though 
I  had  forgotten  what  you  said,  and  because,  I  suppose,  I  have 
never  wanted  for  anything,  thanks  to  the  goodness  of  my 
friends. "  This  response  was  greatly  applauded  by  all  present, 
and  so,  encouraged  by  their  smiles,  as  beginners  are  apt  to 
be,  I  went  on:  "I  am  glad  I  have  come  into  what  I  have,  and 
not  altogether  on  my  own  account,  either,"  and  here  I  gave 
Constance's  hand  such  a  squeeze  that  she  came  near  to  crying 
out  with  the  pain  of  it.  "Aunt  Betty's  boys  it  is  not  likely 
will  ever  want  for  anything,  but  if  they  do  I  shall  be  glad  to 
share  what  I  have  with  them,  and  this  because  of  their  father's 
and  mother's  many  kindnesses  to  me  in  the  past." 

"I  know  you  mean  that,  Gilbert,"  Aunt  Betty  cried;  "and 
if  it  were  not  for  disturbing  everybody  I  would  come  around 
and  give  you  a  kiss  for  your  sweet  speech." 

This,  every  one  agreed,  quite  repaid  me,  and  I  thought  so 
too,  for  Aunt  Betty  was  a  most  affectionate  and  lovable 
woman,  and  had  been  to  me  from  the  very  first  as  if  I  were 
a  dear  brother.  Mrs.  Singleton,  who  in  the  years  that  had 
passed  was  forever  looking  me  up  to  see,  she  said,  if  I  kept  my 
good  temper  or  was  not  in  need  of  some  kindness,  now  turned 
to  me,  and  smiling  as  a  mother  might  on  her  child,  asked : 

"What  do  you  intend  doing,  Gilbert,  now  that  you  are 
rich,  if  you  have  a  mind  to  tell  us?" 

"I  don't  know,"  I  answered,  truly  enough. 

"That  is  not  strange;  but  where  will  you  complete  your 
education?"  she  went  on. 

"In  Appletop,  I  hope,  if  Mrs.  Hayward  thinks  I  need  to 
know  more  about  books,"  I  answered,  turning  to  her. 


414  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

At  this  the  sweet  lady  blushed  like  a  girl,  so  confused  was 
she  at  the  reference,  but  pleased  withal,  I  thought,  at  the 
compliment.  Recovering  herself  directly,  she  answered  in 
her  pleasant  way: 

"I  was  but  a  poor  instructor,  I  fear,  Gilbert,  and  taught 
you  but  little,  and  that  not  well.  William  and  I  have  talked 
about  it  a  great  deal  since  the  day  you  left  us,  for  the  ferry 
is  not  the  same  to  us  now  that  you  are  gone." 

"I  will  never  again  find  friends  who  will  be  half  as  indul- 
gent, and  not  all  the  money  in  the  world  would  repay  the  debt  I 
owe  you  and  Mr.  Hay  ward,"  I  answered.  "You  taught  me  all 
I  know,  and  with  such  forbearance  and  gentleness  that  I  shall 
love  you  for  it  as  long  as  I  live,"  I  went  on,  and  yet  not 
expressing  the  half  I  felt.  For  of  all  women  I  ever  knew, 
save  Constance  and  my  dear  mother,  there  was  never  one  like 
her  for  goodness  and  every  womanly  virtue.  Of  Mr.  Hayward, 
if  he  was  different,  he  was  not  less  kind-hearted  and  true  to 
those  near  him.  "About  schools,"  I  kept  on,  determined 
to  have  it  out  now  that  the  subject  was  up,  "I  never  liked 
them  when  a  boy,  and  less  so  to-day  than  then.  That  is  the 
way  I  feel,  and  except  for  the  necessity  of  it  I  would  never 
look  in  a  book  again  unless  it  referred  to  something  I  liked. 
An  education,  though,  I  suppose,  is  as  needful  as  plowing 
before  a  crop,  and  so  I  must  go  on  and  finish  mine  whether 
I  like  it  or  no." 

"You  never  liked  to  plow  very  well,"  Mr.  Hayward 
responded,  as  if  it  fell  to  him  to  answer,  "but  still  you  went 
at  it  resolutely  enough  when  there  was  need.  You  will  do 
the  same  about  finishing  your  education,  I  know.  The  labor 
ought  not  to  be  very  great,  for  most  men  are  overeducated. 
Nine-tenths  of  those  who  go  to  the  higher  schools  had  better 
spend  their  time  boiling  soap  or  hoeing  corn.  The  few  who 
are  really  great  get  along  very  well  without  so  much  cram- 
ming, and  in  the  case  of  others  the  preparation  only  makes 
them  the  more  dissatisfied  with  their  real  place  in  life, ' '  he  con- 
cluded, soberly,  and  as  if  not  speaking  altogether  from  hearsay. 


Where  All  the  Roads  Meet  415 

"What  studies  do  you  like  best,  Gilbert,  if  any?"  Mr. 
Seymour  asked,  as  if  quizzing  me. 

"History  and  novels;  things  that  have  to  do  with  men 
and  women  and  the  like,"  I  answered,  truly. 

"History  is  a  fine  study,  and  novels  are  a  help  to  young 
men  when  they  refer  to  real  things  and  not  the  imaginings  of 
authors,"  Mr.  Seymour  answered,  mildly. 

"I  once  wrote  a  story,"  Mrs.  Singleton  here  spoke  up, 
much  to  our  astonishment — "and  you  need  not  laugh.  There 
were  some  beautiful  things  in  it,  too,  I  know;  but  on  reading 
them  over  I  became  at  last  possessed  of  a  horrible  fear  that 
I  had  seen  them  elsewhere,  though  I  couldn't  be  certain,  and 
so  in  the  end  burned  the  manuscript." 

"That  is  not  strange,"  Mr.  Seymour  remarked,  "for  if  we 
happen  to  say  something  that  is  beautiful,  we  are  as  conscious 
of  it  as  others;  but  reflecting  on  the  subject,  it  in  time 
becomes  common,  and  so  assumes  the  air  of  being  old.  Imme- 
diately this  is  so,  we  suspect  it  is  not  ours,  but  something  we 
have  treasured  in  our  memory,  and  so  at  last  cannot  distin- 
guish between  the  two." 

"I  am  surprised  at  what  you  say,  Mrs.  Singleton,"  Uncle 
Job  interposed ;  "for  I  have  heard  the  disposition  to  write  was 
so  intense  that  it  could  not  be  appeased." 

"It  was  not  so  in  my  case,  for  I  have  never  had  any  dis- 
position to  make  a  second  attempt,"  she  answered,  amiably. 

"If  a  man  must  write  a  novel,  let  him  go  ahead,  and  the 
Lord  have  mercy  on  his  soul,"  Mr.  Seymour  went  on.  "The 
taste,  however,  that  leads  some  to  select  the  worst  types  of 
men  and  women  to  exploit,  as  if  such  people  made  up  the  rank 
and  file  of  society,  or  any  considerable  portion  of  it,  is  beyond 
me.  What  earthly  interest,  for  instance,  have  refined  or 
decent  people  in  the  doings  of  the  social  drabs  that  some  of 
our  authors  are  at  such  infinite  pains  to  portray?" 

"There  are  such  people,  you  will  admit?"  Uncle  Job 
answered,  as  if  to  draw  him  on. 

"Yes;  and  there  are  cataclysms  in  the  sea  and  quicksands 


4i  6  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

on  the  land,  but  neither  the  currents  of  the  sea  nor  the  high- 
ways by  land  lead  to  them.  It  is  only  the  casual  wayfarer 
who  suffers  through  their  existence,  and  so  the  impress  of  the 
disgusting  creatures  these  novelists  depict  would  be  slight  if 
not  thus  widely  advertised." 

"Then  you  think  it  does  harm?"  Uncle  Job  answered. 

"Of  course  it  does  harm.  I  may  say  a  foolish  word  and 
it  counts  for  nothing.  I  myself  will  not  remember  it;  but  if 
some  busybody  or  malicious  person  repeats  it,  then  it  circu- 
lates and  has  enduring  life,  as  if  stamped  in  bronze.  So  it  is 
with  the  acts  of  those  who  disregard  the  moral  ethics  of 
society;  but  these  authors  give  the  reader  the  impression  that 
the  sun  only  shines  by  fits  and  starts,  whereas  the  shadows 
are  as  nothing  compared  with  its  eternal  radiance." 

"They  exaggerate  the  situation,  you  think?"  Uncle  Job 
insinuated. 

"Of  course  they  do;  for  there  are  no  such  men  and  women 
in  real  life.  Even  the  worst  have  good  qualities;  and  if  plots 
are  hatched  to  the  undoing  of  mankind,  it  is  not  among  the 
young  in  life,  for  they  are  always  trusting  and  of  fair  dealing. 
No,  the  pathos  and  tragedies  come  after  marriage,  for  beyond 
that  point  the  sea  is  strewn  with  wreckage.  To  go  back, 
though,  to  what  we  were  speaking  about,  Gilbert,"  he  went 
on,  soberly  enough;  "you  will  not  find  it  disagreeable  to 
finish  your  education  along  the  lines  you  mention.  Nor  will 
you,  I  think,  in  other  and  more  necessary  ways." 

"Thank  you,  sir;  I  will  not  lose  time  in  making  a  begin- 
ning, anyway,"  I  answered.  "What  would  you  say,  Uncle 
Job,"  I  asked,  turning  to  him,  "to  Cousin  Holland's  coming 
here  to  act  as  my  instructor?" 

"He  would  do  very  well,  for  he  has  a  fine  mind  and  is 
a  university  man;  but  how  about  Cousin  Angeline?"  he 
responded,  looking  at  me  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eyes. 

"I  think  we  could  manage  that  some  way;  and  Cousin 
Rolland  is  such  agreeable  company  that  study  would  not  be 
hard  under  him." 


Where  All  the  Roads  Meet  417 

"No,  I  don't  think  it  would,"  Uncle  Job  answered,  but  in 
what  sense  I  could  not  make  out. 

"Where  will  you  live  meanwhile,  Gilbert?  I  hope  with 
us,"  Setti  here  broke  in  for  the  first  time,  it  never  being  in 
her  nature  to  talk  much,  as  I  have  told  you. 

"I  would  like  it  better  than  any  place  on  earth,  Setti,  but 
the  house  would  not  be  big  enough  for  two  such  students  as 
Constance  and  I.  We  would  be  jealous  of  each  other's  learn- 
ing before  a  month  had  passed.  I  have  an  idea  what  I  will 
do,  though,  if  Uncle  Job  agrees  to  it." 

"What  is  it,  Gilbert?  I  agree  beforehand  to  everything 
you  do  or  say,  as  I  ought,  for  that  was  what  your  Aunt  Jane 
said,  you  know,"  Uncle  Job  answered,  good-naturedly. 

"Well,  I  have  a  mind  to  buy  the  Appletop  place,  and  as 
the  owner  is  dead  and  it  is  for  sale,  I  can't  see  that  there  is 
anything  to  prevent,"  I  answered,  hurrying  .through,  not 
knowing  how  the  company  would  take  it. 

Of  Constance  I  was  at  once  assured  by  the  pressure  of  her 
hand.  The  others  at  first  looked  up  in  surprise,  but  after 
a  while,  reflecting  on  the  matter  and  thinking  how  fine  it 
would  be  to  have  the  great  place  owned  by  a  friend,  there  was 
such  clapping  of  hands  and  shouting  as  left  no  doubt  what- 
ever of  their  opinion  in  the  matter.  Turning  to  Constance, 
I  read  in  her  eyes  and  heightened  color  how  pleased  she  was 
to  think  I  should  be  so  near  her,  and  in  such  a  home,  sur- 
rounded by  trees  and  lawns  and  opening  vistas,  in  the  quiet 
of  the  country  and  yet  among  my  friends. 

"If  you  buy  it,  Gilbert,  and  ever  build  a  house,  let  it  be 
something  like  a  manor,  for  that  will  be  in  keeping  with  the 
place,"  Mrs.  Singleton,  who  greatly  admired  the  old-fashioned 
houses  of  the  South,  spoke  up. 

"Yes;  and  I  would  like  to  suggest  a  name  for  it,  Gilbert, 
if  you  have  a  mind,"  Mr.  Seymour  interposed. 

"I  should  be  glad  to  have  you,  sir,"  I  answered,  in  great 
spirits,  delighted  to  find  my  plan  met  with  every  one's 
approval. 


41 8  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"Call  it  Black  Hawk  Lodge,  in  honor  of  that  great  man 
and  much  maligned  savage,"  Mr.  Seymour  responded. 

"I  will  build  the  house  if  only  to  name  it  in  remembrance 
of  him,  and  in  gratitude  for  his  having  saved  the  lives  of  my 
father  and  mother,"  I  answered,  the  image  of  the  great  savage 
rising  like  a  specter  before  my  eyes. 

Afterward  it  fell  out  as  I  had  proposed ;  and  not  waiting 
to  make  any  change  in  the  Appletop  house,  I  went  there  to 
live,  bringing  Cousin  Rolland  from  Rock  Island,  as  we  had 
talked.  Now,  having  a  good  deal  of  time  on  my  hands,  for 
my  studies  were  not  so  much  of  a  burden  as  I  had  thought, 
I  soon  began  to  think  of  building  the  new  home,  the  old  one 
being  hardly  fit  to  live  in.  The  planning  of  this,  however, 
I  found  required  more  time  and  study  than  I  had  thought, 
and  being  in  doubt  about  nearly  everything  pertaining  to  such 
a  place,  I  was  compelled  to  seek  Constance's  aid,  and  this 
almost  every  hour  of  the  day.  First  of  all  we  had  to  locate 
the  building,  and  this  with  reference  to  the  trees  and  lawns 
and  the  streets  that  ran  past  the  park.  This  required  a  deal 
of  time  and  much  walking  back  and  forth,  for  we  were  both 
agreed  that  the  matter  of  location  was  everything.  The 
labor,  too,  being  tiresome  in  the  extreme,  we  to  rest  our- 
selves would  oftentimes  have  refreshments  brought  and  served 
on  the  lawn,  or  in  some  friendly  arbor.  Thus,  not  being  in 
any  hurry,  a  thing  I  thought  very  simple  at  first  grew  each 
day  more  difficult,  so  that  in  the  end  it  required  quite  a  year 
for  its  fulfillment. 

When  we  had  fixed  upon  the  location,  the  plans  had  next 
to  be  drawn,  and  that  there  might  be  no  mistake  or  lack  of 
attention  we  kept  them  in  our  own  hands.  As  we  were  new 
to  such  things,  and  yet  aware  how  important  it  was,  we  found 
it  necessary  to  make  many  changes,  often  tearing  up  the 
plans  we  had  made  and  beginning  anew,  so  little  satisfied  were 
we  with  what  we  had  done.  At  the  start  we  determined  that 
the  house  should  have  a  wide  veranda  supported  by  pillars, 
as  Mrs.  Singleton  had  said.  Then  the  hall  came  next;  and 


Where  All  the  Roads  Meet  419 

this,  as  regards  width  and  depth  and  the  location  of  the 
stairs,  caused  us  a  world  of  planning.  After  that  the  recep- 
tion-room had  to  be  agreed  upon,  and  this  with  reference  to 
the  drawing-room;  but  both  of  these  we  got  fixed  finally  to 
our  liking.  The  living-room,  most  important  of  all,  you  will 
say,  after  making  the  circuit  of  the  building  in  search  of  a  fit 
place,  we  at  last  located  on  the  sunny  side  of  the  house,  where 
we  should  have  put  it  at  first.  The  dining-room  we  deter- 
mined from  the  very  beginning  to  make  extra  big,  in  the 
belief  that  entertaining  one's  friends  tends  to  keep  people 
young,  if  not  carried  to  an  excess;  and  thus  it  was.  The 
sleeping-rooms  and  closets  and  things  of  that  sort,  as  regards 
number  and  arrangement,  occasioned  us  a  deal  of  study,  but 
finally  all  were  arranged  to  our  liking.  The  stable,  last  of 
all,  we  hid  away  behind  a  clump  of  pines,  and  so  constructed 
that  we  could  add  to  it,  and  this  without  destroying  the  sym- 
metry of  the  structure,  for  we  thought  that  a  barn,  being 
almost  as  conspicuous  as  the  dwelling,  should  be  gracefully 
planned,  so  far  as  it  was  possible  to  have  it. 

When  finally  the  plans  were  arranged  to  our  liking,  and  we 
could  think  of  nothing  more,  we  called  the  architect  to  go  on 
with  the  work ;  but  now  some  two  years  had  gone  by,  so  much 
time  had  it  taken  to  locate  and  plan  the  structure  to  our 
liking.  At  last,  just  before  my  twentieth  birthday,  the  whole 
was  turned  over  to  me  complete.  Then,  not  waiting  for  fur- 
nishings, but  calling  on  Mr.  Seymour,  and  he  bringing  every 
needed  thing,  we  celebrated  the  event  with  a  dinner,  and 
afterward  a  great  ball,  to  which  all  the  people  of  Appletop 
and  thereabouts  were  invited.  This  last  was  thought  to  be 
a  great  event,  and  to  surpass  by  far  anything  of  the  kind  ever 
before  attempted  in  the  new  country.  Certainly  it  passed  off 
with  great  spirit;  and  one  of  the  things  that  pleased  me  most 
about  it  was  having  the  Haywards  and  Blakes  to  stay  with  me 
during  the  week  of  the  celebration. 

Now,  being  free  and  the  house  in  readiness,  Constance  and 
I  began  to  talk  more  seriously  of  our  marriage,  but  still  as 


420  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

a  thing  some  way  off.  Not,  indeed,  that  we  thought  it  need- 
ful to  wait  till  I  was  of  age,  but  being  separated  by  only 
a  step  a  few  days  more  or  less  did  not  so  much  matter.  Thus 
it  would  have  turned  out,  except  for  the  most  surprising  and 
unheard-of  thing  that  happened  just  at  this  time,  and  that 
was  the  need  that  arose  for  Mr.  Seymour's  immediate  return 
to  England.  For,  so  it  appeared,  he  was  not  the  obscure 
Englishman  we  all  had  thought,  but  the  son  of  a  great  lord; 
and  now,  his  two  elder  brothers  dying  without  issue,  and  his 
father  being  already  dead,  he  had  come  into  the  title  and 
estate,  and  so  must  return  to  his  own  home.  Of  his  coming 
to  America,  and  the  reason  therefor,  it  appeared,  so  the 
story  ran,  that  when  a  young  man  and  hot-headed,  being 
greatly  disheartened  and  angered  by  the  obstacles  his  father 
placed  in  the  way  of  his  union  with  the  lady  of  his  choice,  he 
had  married  her  whether  or  no,  and  gathering  together  all  his 
belongings,  had  come  to  this  country,  and  finally  to  Little 
Sandy  and  the  Dragon,  as  you  know.  Of  all  this  I  had  not 
a  hint  till  one  afternoon  when  Constance  and  her  father  were 
to  dine  with  me,  and  she,  coming  early,  told  me  the  story  as 
I  have  related. 

"Surely  you  have  known  before  to-day  that  your  father  was 
the  son  of  a  nobleman?"  I  answered,  when  she  had  finished, 
surprised  out  of  my  senses  at  what  she  said. 

"Not  always,  but  since  we  came  to  Appletop, "  she 
answered. 

"As  long  ago  as  that,  Constance,  and  you  have  never 
said  a  word  about  it  to  me!  Do  you  think  it  was  quite 
generous  to  keep  it  back?"  I  asked,  in  some  humiliation  that 
I  should  have  been  kept  in  the  dark  about  so  important  a 
matter. 

"What  good  would  it  have  done,  Gilbert?  You  knew  us 
as  we  are,  and  was  that  not  enough?  What  difference  did  his 
being  the  younger  son  of  a  lord  make?" 

"I  don,'t  know;  but  have  you  not  known  he  was  to  fall  heir 
to  the  title?"  I  asked,  bewildered. 


Where  All  the  Roads  Meet  421 

"Not  certainly  till  to-day,  though  it  has  been  likely  these 
four  years." 

"These  four  years!"  I  answered,  astonished  at  what  she 
said;  "and  never  a  hint  of  it  to  me  or  any  one." 

"No,  for  papa  did  not  want  it  known;  and  besides,  his  sur- 
viving brother,  although  an  invalid,  might  still  have  outlived 
him." 

"Now  that  you  are  what  you  are — and  have  been  all 
along — Constance!"  I  answered,  stammering  and  hardly  con- 
scious of  what  I  was  saying. 

"Well,  what  about  it?"  she  asked,  in  her  simple  way. 

"Well,  our  plans — our  marriage.  Surely  I  am  not  going 
to  hold  you  to  it  now  that  you  have  come  into  such  promi- 
nence in  the  world,"  I  answered,  with  a  sinking  heart. 

"For  shame,  you  silly  boy,  to  speak  that  way!  What 
difference  does  it  make.  You  know  papa  has  always  looked 
on  you  as  his  son  and  has  told  you  so  a  hundred  times." 

"I  know,  but  he  was  not  a  lord  then." 

"Yes,  he  was.  A  man  noble  born  is  always  a  noble,  though 
he  may  not  have  a  title;  and  do  you  think  papa  is  any  differ- 
ent now  from  what  he  was  a  month  ago?  You  know  better, 
Gilbert.  Besides,  you  cruel  boy,  did  it  make  any  difference 
with  you  when  you  came  into  your  fine  fortune  and  found 
yourself  betrothed  to  a  poor  tavernkeeper's  daughter?  For 
shame!  I  would  not  have  believed  you  so  full  of  pride." 

"That  was  different,  Constance,  for  without  anything  you 
were  always  too  good  for  me,  and  so  Aunt  Jane  said,  though 
I  knew  it  before." 

"No,  it  is  not  different  at  all.  You  loved  me,  and  that 
was  enough,  you  dear,  silly  goose,  and  I  would  not  give  you 
up  for  all  the  titles  in  the  world.  Nor  would  papa  have  me. 
There  now,  kiss  me,  and  let  us  never  speak  of  it  again,  for 
you  know  what  you  have  always  said,  4I  have  you  and  you 
have  me,  and  what  more  is  there?'  "  And  the  sweet  creature, 
not  waiting  for  me  to  do  as  she  said,  put  her  arms  about  my 
neck  and  kissed  me  on  both  my  cheeks. 


422  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

"You  are  an  angel,  Constance,  and  a  thousand  times  too 
good  for  me,"  I  answered,  returning  her  caress;  "but  if  your 
father  is  going  to  return  to  England  at  once,  it  will  put  off 
our  marriage,"  I  added,  disturbed  at  the  thought. 

"Yes,  I  suppose  so,  though  I  had  not  thought  of  that." 

"Why  should  it,  though?  Why  can't  we  be  married  before 
he  goes — now,  if  there  is  no  objection?"  I  added,  to  clinch  it. 

"Why,  what  a  hurry  you  are  in,  Gilbert,"  she  answered, 
but  not  as  if  displeased  at  what  I  said. 

"Yes,  for  if  we  put  it  off,  it  may  be  for  a  long  time,  and 
I  see  no  need  of  such  delay,"  I  replied,  thinking  of  my  many 
years  of  waiting. 

"Why,  you  are  only  twenty,  Gilbert,  you  know,"  she 
answered,  looking  at  me  in  the  most  quizzical  way. 

"Yes,  but  I  have  been  a  man  these  ten  years,  and  have 
loved  you  always,  you  know." 

"Yes,  you  have,  you  sweet  boy,  and  I  will  marry  you  to-day 
if  it  will  please  you,"  she  answered,  putting  her  arm  through 
mine  as  if  there  were  no  other. 

"Then  we  will  be  married  before  he  goes,  if  he  is  agreed," 
I  answered,  kissing  her.  Now,  seeing  Mr.  Seymour  coming 
across  the  road,  we  ran  forward  to  greet  him  at  the  gate. 

"So  you  have  heard  the  news,  Gilbert?"  he  asked,  as  he 
approached,  seeing  our  smiling  faces. 

"Yes;  Constance  has  told  me,  and  I  wish  you  joy  of  your 
good  fortune,  for  there  is  no  one  in  the  world  half  so  worthy 
of  it,  or  who  would  honor  it  as  you  will,"  I  answered,  kissing 
his  hand. 

"Then  you  still  think  well  of  me,  a  lord  born  and  bred, 
hot  republican  that  you  are?'" 

"Yes,  and  a  thousand  times  more  than  I  ever  did  before," 
I  answered,  remembering  his  great  goodness  to  me  always; 
"but  are  all  lords  like  you?" 

"Yes,  only  better,  though  none  of  them  have  made  the 
success  I  have  as  a  tavernkeeper.  And  about  that,  what  will 


Where  All  the  Roads  Meet  423 

Appletop  do,  I  wonder,  when  I  am  gone?"  he  added,  as  if 
the  leaving  carried  with  it  some  pang  of  regret. 

"It  will  never  find  anybody  to  take  your  place  in  the 
tavern  or  elsewhere,  and  your  going  will  fill  every  one  with 
sorrow,  for  there  is  not  one  who  does  not  love  you," 
I  answered,  thinking  of  his  true  heart  and  gentle  kindness  all 
these  years. 

"Ah,  Gilbert,  you  have  the  making  of  a  fine  courtier,  it 
comes  so  easy  for  you  to  say  pleasant  things,"  he  answered, 
smiling.  "Constance  has  told  you,  I  suppose,  that  I  must  go 
back  to  England  at  once?"  he  added,  caressing  her  hand. 

"Yes;  and  I  am  both  glad  and  sorry." 

"You  understand  that  I  shall  want  to  take  her  with  me?'* 

"No,  not  that,  surely!" 

"You  wouldn't  have  me  leave  her  here,  would  you?"  he 
asked,  smiling. 

"Yes,  if  we  were  married  first,"  I  answered. 

"Why,  you  have  not  thought  of  marrying  for  a  year  yet." 

"I  know;  but  your  going  changes  everything;  and  why 
should  we  put  it  off  longer,  if  you  have  no  objection?" 

"I  have  no  objection,  but  don't  you  think  it  would  be 
better  to  have  it  occur  in  her  new  home?" 

"Not  unless  she  wishes  it,  or  you  desire  it,  for  this  is  her 
home  and  country,  and  always  will  be,  I  hope,"  I  answered, 
thinking  it  best  to  put  the  matter  squarely. 

"Well,  do  as  you  like,  children.  It  is  never  wise  for  old 
people  to  meddle  too  much  in  such  affairs,"  he  added,  as  if 
thinking  of  his  own  youth.  "Only  I  wish  Constance  to  go 
with  me  now,  for  I  have  to  meet  new  conditions,  and  want 
her  by  my  side.  Afterward  I  will  come  back  with  you  if  only 
for  a  month,  for  this  is  now  my  country,  Gilbert,  as  well  as 
hers.  Its  streams  and  slumbering  depths,"  he  went  on,  as 
he  looked  across  the  intervening  plain  to  the  great  river 
and  the  dark  forest  beyond,  "belong  to  all  of  us  without 
reference  to  our  place  of  birth.  Nature  claims  this  love  and 


424  The  Romance  of  Gilbert  Holmes 

kinship  from  her  children  everywhere,  but  in  my  case  there 
are  other  ties,  as  you  know.  So  do  not  fear,  my  children,  but 
that  I  shall  return  many  times  in  the  days  to  come  to  visit  you 
in  your  home,  in  the  country  of  my  adoption." 

Thus  it  was  concluded  as  we  stood  holding  each  other's 
hands  in  the  shadows  of  the  spreading  trees,  and  it  being  left 
to  Constance  and  me,  we  determined  to  celebrate  our  mar- 
riage without  further  delay — not,  as  you  may  suppose,  in  the 
new  house,  or  in  the  church,  but  in  the  Treasure  room  of  the 
Dragon,  where  there  were  so  many  reminders  of  things  dear 
to  us  all,  and  now  become  a  part  of  our  lives.  When  this 
event  that  we  had  so  long  looked  forward  to  had  been  consum- 
mated, and  every  hope  and  longing  was  thus  happily  fulfilled, 
we  accompanied  Mr.  Seymour  to  England,  as  he  desired. 
There,  as  Lady  Constance,  my  sweet  wife  was  received  by 
her  people  in  the  most  affectionate  way  possible,  and  after- 
ward, when  they  came  to  know  her  better,  with  such  striving 
to  keep  her  among  them  that  I  came  near  abandoning  my  own 
country  for  theirs.  For  in  my  case  they  could  not  have  been 
more  kind  had  I  been  an  Englishman  and  a  lord,  and  this, 
you  must  know,  is  the  feeling  they  have  for  all  their  descend- 
ants beyond  the  seas,  however  lightly  the  latter  may  prize 
their  love. 

In  this  way,  and  amid  surroundings  every  way  delightful, 
we  prolonged  our  stay  for  a  year  or  more,  but  after  a  while, 
and  with  some  sojourn  on  the  continent,  came  back  to  our 
own  home,  where  we  stayed.  This,  though  the  town  faded 
out  after  a  little,  as  so  many  had  done  before,  to  reappear 
under  other  names  on  the  banks  of  the  great  river.  We 
were  content  to  stay,  and  soon  where  the  streets  had  been, 
meadows  and  trees  took  their  place,  for  as  the  houses  were 
torn  down  or  moved  away  we  acquired  the  property,  and  so 
added  it  to  what  we  had  before.  Of  the  Dragon,  it  remained 
as  of  old,  and  the  little  garden  Constance  had  looked  after  as 
a  girl  we  kept  as  it  was,  and  filled  always  with  the  flowers  she 
had  loved.  This  part  of  our  domain,  the  most  cherished  of 


Where  All  the  Roads  Meet  425 

all,  we  left  to  Setti's  tender  care,  and  of  the  building  she 
made  a  playhouse  for  our  children,  and  here  they  grew  to  be 
men  and  women,  all  fair  and  with  sweet  tempers  and  gentle 
ways  like  their  mother.  Constance  and  I  often  visited  the 
old  home,  sometimes  with  the  children  at  the  little  feasts  they 
spread,  but  often  alone,  when  we  wished  to  conjure  up  anew 
the  faces  and  forms  of  other  days.  Thus  we  lived  in  the  still- 
ness of  the  country  in  happiness  and  contentment  of  mind, 
each  year  adding  something  to  the  great  love  we  had  borne 
each  other  from  the  first. 


Here  Mr.  Holmes  brought  his  story  to  a  close,  and  doing 
so,  looked  upward  and  away  across  the  great  river,  as  if 
recalling  the  distant  period  of  which  he  spoke.  For  some 
time  I  sat  silent,  and  then,  seeing  he  had  finished,  asked, 
looking  at  the  sweet  lady  who  stood  beside  him: 

"And  Constance,  sir?" 

"You  want  to  know  about  her?"  he  asked,  smiling,  recalled 
to  himself. 

"Yes,  she  most  of  all." 

"Surely,  she  most  of  all!  There  could  never  be  but  one 
Constance — and  this  is  she,"  he  answered,  putting  his  arm 
about  the  sweet  lady  at  his  side.  She,  responding  with  no 
less  love,  embraced  him  with  tender  affection,  and  as  she 
might  in  her  youth,  on  the  banks  of  the  great  river,  beneath 
the  widespreading  hawthorns. 


A  GREAT  BOOK. 

"THE  ROMANCE  OF  GILBERT  HOLMES" 


BY  MARSHALL  MONROE  KIRKMAN. 

The  author  of  this  powerful  novel  is  the  first  writer  to  enshrine  out 
national  heroes,  Abraham  Lincoln  and  Jefferson  Davis,  in  the  legendary 
lore  of  our  country;  to  portray  them  free  from  the  incrustations  and  scars 
of  politics;  to  speak  of  them  as  they  were — tender  and  true;  to  reach  their 
inner  lives,  showing  their  lofty  and  ideal  aspirations.  He  strips  from 
them  the  cerements  in  which  superficial  writers  and  the  cold  historian 
have  hidden  their  personality.  He  speaks  of  Lincoln  as  the  Poet  and  the 
Man,  and  of  Davis  in  his  youth,  as  the  Magnificent  and  Chivalrous  Soul 
he  was.  So,  too,  he  portrays  the  Renowned  Sac  Chieftain,  Black  Hawk, 
in  colors  as  vivid  as  those  Cooper  would  have  used.  "The  daring  ven- 
ture of  introducing  these  men  in  romance  has  been  crowned  with 
success."— The  Philadelphia  Press. 


"Told  with  captivating  power." — Rt. 
Rev.  Wm.  E.  McLaren,  Bishop  of  Chicago. 

"A  Thanatopsis  in  prose."  —  Boston 
Post. 

"Chaste,  pure,  elegant."  —  New  York 
Times. 

"Of  surpassing  interest."  —  Philadel- 
phia Inquirer. 

"Wherever  opened,  something  beauti- 
ful is  found."—  Christian  Nation,  N.  Y. 

"Of  the  beauty  and  delicacy  of  the  au- 
thor's touch  there  can  be  no  question."— 
Chicago  Tribune 

"Not  a  chapter  will  be  lound  superflu- 
ous, not  a  page  skipped." —  Philadelphia 
Public  Ledger. 

"Occupies  a  distinctive  position  and  pos- 
sesses surpassing  merit."  —  Baltimore 
Herald. 

"Marked  by  a  great  deal  of  individual- 
ity."— New  York  Sun. 

"A  vivid  and  stirring  picture  of  ad- 
venture, incident  and  romance."—  Balti- 
more American. 

"Ends  like  a  strain  of  major  music."— 
Chicago  Journal. 

"A  choice  romance."—  The  Book  World, 
Ntw  York. 

"Permeated  by  a  wholesome  se»ti- 
ment."— Montreal  Herald. 

"As  pure  and  sweet  as  the  breath  of 
May."—  Chicago  Daily  Chronicle. 

"Remarkably  successful  in  reproducing 
the  vanished  life  of  the  Mississippi  val- 
ley."— New  Orleans  Picayune. 


"Shows  literary  skill  and  fine  style."— 
—Chicago  Record. 

"Deep  in  its  philosophy  as  life  itself."— 
The  Cleveland  World. 

"Its  word  paintings  indicate  complete 
mastery  of  English  prose  and  the  poet's 
art." — Toronto  Mail  and  Empire. 

"Its  charm  is  in  the  beautiful  women 
characters."—  Chicago  Inter  Ocean. 

"Inspired  by  an  ardent  love  and  appre- 
ciation of  the  true  and  beautiful."— Rich.- 
in(/*a  ( ?a.)  Times. 

"The  touchstone  of  talent  is  In  the  truth 
to  life  with  which  the  familiar  heroes 
and  builders  of  our  nation  are  brought 
out  in  the  story."— St.  Louis  Globe-Demo- 
crat. 

"The  description  of  the  Mauvaise  Terre 
is  hardly  equaled  by  Thoreau's  descrip- 
tion of  the  Concord," — Chicago  Daily 
Chronicle. 

"A  love  story  pure  and  simple,  treating 
of  American  people."— St.  Louis  Star. 

"Will  take  its  place  among  the  few 
really  good  novels."— Bookseller,  News- 
dealer and  Stationer,  New  York. 

"Constructed  with  dramatic  power."— 
Brooklyn-Standard-  Union. 

"One  might  search  the  pages  of  English 
fiction  in  vain  to  find  a  more  charming 
idyl  of  love." — Rocky  Mountain  News, 
Denver. 


Cloth,  I2mo,          Gilt  top.  Deckle  Edges.  Illustrated.  Price.  $1.50. 

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Kirkttian's 


Primitive  Peoples  and  Carriers; 


.  , 

peasant,  bishop  and  layman,  philosopher  and  fool,  rich  and  poor,  all  find  it 
equally  interesting  and  attractive.  Cultivated  men  and  women  in  every  walk  of 
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This  unique  and  rare  work  of  art  embraces  fifteen  hundred  beautiful  engravings, 
portraying  the  Primitive  People  of  the  world  and  their  methods  of  carriage  in  every 
age  and  quarter  of  the  globe.  It  also  contains  an  historical  account  of  the  people  of 
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laym 
nd  att 

and  in  every  part  of  the  world  express  their  high  appreciation  of  its  rare  beauty 
and  interest.  _ 

"It  Is  a  most  beautiful  and  interesting  work." 

His  Eminence  Francis  Cardinal  Satolli,  D.D., 

Papal  Delegate  Apostolic  U.  S.  A. 

"For  originality  of  design  and  thorough  treatment  of  its  subject,  it  is  unique 
among  books.  Disraeli  would  have  enshrined  it  among  his  'Curiosities  of  Litera- 
ture' as  a  stroke  of  genius."  Kight  Reverend  William  E.  McLaren, 

D.D.,  D.C.L.,  Bishop  of  Chicago. 

"It  treats  well  and  artistically  a  comparatively  new  field  of  literature." 

His  Eminence  James  Cardinal  Gibbons,  D.D.,  Archbishop  of  Baltimore. 

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as  curious."  Right  Reverend  A.  Cleveland  Coxe,  D.D.,  LL.D., 

Bishop  of  Western  New  York. 

"Covers  an  entirely  new  ground  of  the  greatest  possible  interest." 

Right  Reverend  M.  N.  Gilbert,  D.D.,  LL.D.,  Bishop  Coadjutor  of  Minnesota. 

"It  was  a  most  happy  thought  that  conceived  such  a  work,  and  in  its  execution 
it  becomes  a  most  instructive  and  suggestive  contribution  to  our  best  literature." 
Right  Reverend  Henry  C.  Potter,  D.D..  LL.D.,  D.C.L.,  Bishop  of  New  York. 

"A  very  beautiful  book.  It  is  not  only  classical  and  Historical,  but  also  a  work 
of  great  interest  and  usefulness." 

Most  Reverend  Patrick  A.  Feehan,  Archbishop  of  Chicago. 

"A  most  interesting  and  valuable  work."  Nelson  A.  Miles, 

Lieutenant-General,  Commanding  United  States  Army. 

"A  more  interesting  series  of  Illustrations  it  would  be  difficult  to  imagine,  or 
one  that  could  give  more  clear  and  positive  instruction  in  the  history  of  humanity." 

—New  York  Sun. 

"A  work  of  great  merit  and  beauty."—  Boston  Globe. 
"A  superb  volume,  original  in  conception  and  unique  in  literature  and  art." 

Chicago  Tribune. 

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THE  AUGUST  RULERS  of  the  World  find  this  work  quite  as  fascinating  as 
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IN  TWELVE   VOLUMES 

PORTRAYING  THE    METHODS  AND  PRINCIPLES  CONNECTED  WITH  THE  OR- 
GANIZATION,  LOCATION,    CAPITALIZATION,  CONSTRUCTION,   MAIN- 
TENANCE,    EQUIPMENT,    MOTIVE    POWER,   OPERATION 
AND    ADMINISTRATION    OF    RAILROADS,    PRO- 
FUSELY ILLUSTRATED  WITH  ENGRAV- 
INGS OF  RAILWAY  APPLIANCES 
PREPARED  EXPRESSLY 
FOR  THIS  WORK. 


By  MARSHALL  MONROE  KIRKMAN. 


This  great  work  marks  a  New  and  Notable  departure  in  Class  Literature,  and 
representative  railway  men,  without  distinction,  commend  it  for  its  thoroughness, 
vast  research  and  impartial  representation.  While  it  treats  of  specific  things.  It  does 
not  reflect  the  methods  of  any  particular  property  or  country.  A  treasury  of  re- 
search and  practical  experience,  it  portrays  truly  and  vividly  the  principles  and 
practices  of  the  great  art  of  transportation  in  their  highest  and  best  forms.  It  la 
alike  popular  in  every  part  of  America,  where  railroading  has  reached  its  highest 
development,  and  the  endorsement  it  has  received  is  conclusive  evidence  of  its  value 
and  trustworthiness.  The  work  after  passing  through  several  editions  has  been  re- 
vised, enlarged,  and  rewritten  to  better  meet  the  needs  of  railway  men  and  changed 
conditions  and  improvements  in  connection  with  the  construction  and  operation  of 
railroads.  

THE  TWELVE  VOLUMES  AND  SUPPLEMENTS  TO  THE  WORK  ARE  AS  FOLLOWS: 

1.  RAILWAY  EQUIPMENT,  INCLUDING  ELECTRICITY  AS  APPLIED  TO  RAIL- 

ROADS   $  2.50 

2.  RAILWAY  ORGANIZATION 2.50 

a    FINANCING,  CONSTRUCTING  AND  MAINTAINING 2.50 

4.    TRAIN  SERVICE,  INCLUDING  SAFETY  APPLIANCES,  SIGNALS,  ETC 2.50 

6.    PASSENGER,  BAGGAGE,  EXPRESS  AND  MAIL  SERVICE 2.50 

6.  FREIGHT  BUSINESS  AND  AFFAIRS 2.50 

7.  DISBURSEMENTS  OF  RAILWAYS 2.5o 

8.  ECONOMIC  THEORY  OF  RATES.    PRIVATE  versus  GOVERNMENT  CONTROL 

OF  RAILROADS 2.50 

9.  FISCAL  AFFAIRS;   COLLECTION  OF  REVENUE,  INCLUDING  THE  FISCAL 

DUTIES  OF  AGENTS  AND  CONDUCTORS 2.50 

10.  GENERAL  FISCAL  AND  OTHER  AFFAIRS 2.50 

11.  ORIGIN  AND  EVOLUTION  OF  TRANSPORTATION,  WITH  500  ENGRAVINGS  ....  2.50 

12.  ENGINEER'S    AND    FIREMAN'S   MANUAL;     COMPOUND   LOCOMOTIVES  ; 

GENERAL  INDEX 2.50 

SUPPLEMENTARY  VOLUMES. 

BUILDING  AND  REPAIRING  RAILWAYS 9  5.00 

THE  AIR  BRAKE 2.50 

LOCOMOTIVE  APPLIANCES —  .  5.00 


No  library  is  complete  vnthout  the  above  authoritative  books  on  corporations  and  railways. 


THE  WORLD  RAILWAY  PUBLISHING  COMPANY, 
CHICAGO. 


LIBRARY  FACIUTY 


A     000  027  560     2 


